Lost & Found
by morningsofgold777
Summary: This is the sequel to 'As the World Falls Down'. It's happily ever after in the Goblin Kingdom...or is it? Sarah begins to have a reoccurring dream that sends both her and Jareth on an adventure of discovery.
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer: This story is for entertainment purposes only. I do not own or have any affiliation with the creators or actors of Labyrinth.**_

_**Note: I have used the information regarding Sarah's family from those presented in the film only, not the subsequent manga. If I have missed any vital information as presented in the film, I apologize and ask that you overlooked the error and just enjoy the story for what it is. Thank you for reading.**_

_**Note: Meara is pronounced 'meer + a'. Ciarán is pronounced 'keer + in'. Aibhlinn is pronounced 'ave + leen' and means 'longed-for child'.**_

**PROLOGUE**

_The Long Awaited Child_

Meara stood at the nursery window, watching the blonde-haired young man stride across the ward of the castle as if he owned it. _Such arrogance,_ she thought, twisting the ring on her finger nervously. Light from the window made its green depths glow brilliantly, but its wearer didn't notice. Her attention remained on the young man. Were they doing the right thing?

She turned slightly and looked at the child sleeping in the crib carved with faeries and unicorns, her rosy cheek resting against a stuffed bear. So young, so innocent, so unaware that her future had already been agreed upon. It went against everything Meara believed in. The child should be free to choose. Just like her mother.

_But you weren't a princess_, Meara reminded herself. And this, her husband had assured her, was how it was done among royalty.

As if her thoughts had called him, she heard a footstep behind her and then hands upon her shoulders. She felt his beard tickle her neck. She leaned back against him with a sigh. Everything felt right in Ciarán's arms.

'It's done.' He told her.

'Is that supposed to reassure me?' She asked.

'You worry too much, my pet.' Her husband said against her ear. 'He's a fine lad, and he's taking a risk that few would take. Aldrich will not be pleased. Their kind do not marry, and certainly not without permission.'

'Then why do it?' Meara exclaimed, clearly distressed. 'Why entered into a betrothal that's sure to displease your liege lord? It makes no sense at all. The boy is a mad.'

'He's reckless and headstrong,' Ciarán allowed, 'but he's far from being mad.'

'You forgot arrogant.'

'You said the same thing about me the first time we met.' He reminded her. 'Under Aldrich's tutelage, what do you expect? That kingdom isn't known for its civility.'

'But he's not like Aldrich.' Meara pointed out. 'Not at all. In him is a fire that has never burned in Aldrich's cold heart. Aldrich makes decisions with his head. This boy makes them with his heart. Would he have risk displeasing his lord otherwise? His will is strong, and he'll need to learn to control it.'

'Perhaps Aibhlinn can lead him into more pleasing ways.'

Meara turned in his husband's arms and looked up at him with pleading eyes. 'But, Ciarán, she's just a baby. Why betroth yourself to a baby? How will you ever know whether or not she'll love you or you'll love her?'

'He knows what's written in the stars as well as we do, my pet. Remember that Aldrich sent him to the spellmaster for training when he was but a boy. Knowing what you know of the spellmaster, do you think he didn't teach the lad how to read the stars? He has been waiting for her as eagerly as we have.'

'Blast the stars.' Meara retorted. 'I don't believe in such things.'

'That's because the world you came from taught you to question everything you do not understand, but here, we take these things very seriously. The stars have spoken and cannot be defied. The King of the Goblins and the Elfstone Princess will reign side by side, and their reign shall usher in a new peace. I do not know how it will happen or whether or not they will find the love you so highly esteem, but I trust the stars, my pet, and that is how I can give her away.' He sighed, dropping his arms from around his wife and walking over to the crib. He touched his daughter's dark curls. 'And we could certainly use peace in this land.'

Meara joined him at the crib. 'They're threatening again?'

He nodded. 'Fergus reports troop movements on our borders. But don't worry,' he said, straightening up and taking her into his arms once again, 'the stone will protect us.'

'I've never quite trusted that thing.'

'I know you haven't, but it's protected this kingdom for hundreds of years. Now,' he said briskly, 'I must leave you for a while. I'm meeting with Ronan to discuss posting extra guards.'

He dropped a kiss on her nose and turned to leave.

'Ciarán?'

He turned back, looking at her questioningly.

'I love you.'

'I love you too, my pet.' He said with the boyish grin that had first attracted her to him. 'Now stop worrying. The kingdom is secure, and they won't marry until she's sixteen so you have plenty of time with her yet.'

Meara watched him go with a troubled heart. Plenty of time with her, he'd said. Fifteen years didn't seem much when she'd been waiting for the precious little thing for nearly a century. Now she had finally arrived, and already she was set to leave again. Meara felt tears gathering in her eyes and quickly brushed them away. She would not cry. She was made of stronger stuff than that.

A sound from the crib drew her attention. The child was awake and smiling up at her. She smiled back, reaching down to lift the little girl into her arms. As soon as the baby was settled on her hip, the fat little hands reached for the ring. The green gem seemed to fascinate the child.

'You like that, do you?' Meara asked, looking down at her with indulgent eyes. 'Your father gave it to me on our wedding day. It's a piece of the Elfstone. He tells me that it's supposed to have magical powers, but I've never taken the time to learn how to use it. There's so much magic around this place that I can't see where I'd make any difference.'

The little girl cooed up at her, and once again, Meara felt the tears burning her eyelids. Their time together was so short.

'Oh, Aibhlinn, don't grow up too quickly.' She breathed, pressing the child's cheek against hers. 'I wish that you would stay just the way you are for an hundred years.'

And, unbeknownst to her, the stone upon her finger heard and granted her wish.


	2. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE**

_A Kind of Pale Jewel_

_A little over a year after the Goblin King's marriage…_

Bob took a quick look around the shop. The customer with the half glasses and patched overcoat had finally left. _Professors_, he thought, shuffling over to the door and locking it. Always looking but never buying. Down went the yellowed blind on the door and surrounding windows. The Goblin's Attic was officially closed for the day.

He started for the backroom where he lived, his mind on the fat sausages waiting for him in the icebox, when he suddenly stopped, his eyes drawn to the silver box sitting in a cubbyhole behind the counter. For the last year, his eyes had been drawn to that box. _What was in it_, he'd wondered night after night. Why had _he_ wanted it kept safe?

And every night he'd walked on by, more concerned with sausages than boxes, but tonight…his eyes darted from side to side…tonight what would it hurt to take a look? _He wouldn't be watching, _he assured himself, shuffling over to the counter where the box was stored. He had a queen now. His attention was elsewhere. Bob hadn't seen or heard anything from him for over a year. The box was technically Bob's now, wasn't it?

The squat little man who had once been a goblin stared at the box, his fingers twitching. The bright, shiny silver lured him for he'd always had a weakness for shiny things. Was there something even shinier inside? Taking one last look around, he snatched up the box, tucked it beneath one grimy elbow and scurried into the back room.

It was locked. He'd known it was locked, but locks had ever presented a problem for Bob, not even locks locked by the Goblin King. He removed a pick set from his dirty vest pocket and went to work.

_He_ had never said not to look inside. His instructions were to keep it safe, which Bob had done. It never occurred to Bob as he worked the lock that the Goblin King had just assumed him smart enough not to meddle in things that belonged to the Goblin King. He'd been living in the aboveground so long that he'd forgotten what it was like to live under the rule of the Goblin King.

The lock clicked, and Bob carefully put away his picks before turning back to his treasure. He sat for some time staring at the box, strangely reluctant to open the lid. A premonition perhaps? Or just a remembrance of the fear he'd once felt in the presence of the Goblin King? But he quickly brushed it aside. He was alone. No one would see.

He lifted the lid and frowned. No, he scowled, quite ominously. _Just a bloody rock_, he thought, picking up the pale green gem and rolling it between his fingers. It was warm to the touch and glowed a little bit in his hand. It was pretty, but not as pretty as silver or gold or brass. He really had no use for rocks.

With a snort, he tossed it back into the box and closed the lid with a snap. Within seconds it was back in the store room and Bob was busy cooking his dinner.

Inside the box, however, the gem continued to glow.

***SCENE CHANGE***

Deep in the Dark Wood, a white cat sat suddenly sat upright. She lifted her nose as if scenting the breeze and then her tail began to twitch, swaying side to side like a charmed cobra. The green eyes narrowed and then widened as her senses picked up the merest hint, the barest whisper of what she'd been waiting for. It was awake, and it was calling her. Or was it?

She sat very still, concentrating. It was calling someone, she decided, but whether it was herself she could not determine. The stone as she had learned had a mind of its own. Although it had served her well and faithfully, she had always felt that it longed for someone else, and at times, she wondered if it were not acting on its own volition. There'd been a rogue element about it that had frustrated her.

The tail twitched faster as something close to panic assailed her. She mustn't allow it to find who it was calling or it would be lost to her, and she'd spend the rest of her days as a cat. Hatred, her constant companion these days, sprang to life again. How she hated the Goblin King. Not only had he and his cheeky little brat of a bride denied her all her dreams and ambitions, but they'd assigned her a life of misery. If she ate one more mouse…

_None of that_, she cautioned herself. Concentrate on the stone. Its aura was very faint. Knowing Jareth, he had probably hidden it in the aboveground, thinking it beyond her reach. And he was right. She was virtually powerless in her present state. Nevertheless, she was not without means. She had her allies…if she was willing to pay the price.

The thought of paying that price sickened her, but she had no choice. She must have that stone back, and once she had it back…well, let's just say that deals could be broken.

***SCENE CHANGE***

The castle had seen better days as had the surrounding valley with its many waterfalls and abundant pines. Neither had faired well in the age following its overthrow. The current lord cared nothing for its former beauty and had not bothered repairing the damage left by the flaming arrows, catapults or battering rams. The walls which had one been gleaming white were now a dull grey with bits of moss growing within cracks, and crows circled the turrets like vultures, their cries harsh and abrasive in the once peaceful valley.

Guards, dressed in black armor, constantly patrolled, but the cat had no trouble slipping through undetected. Once inside the wall, it ran lightly across the ward and jumped onto the ledge of an open window. Inside a man lounged on a long, armless sofa, a book resting on his lap. The cat let out a plaintive yowl.

He looked up, revealing black eyes under black brows. He smiled, showing pointy white teeth. 'Morwenna, darling, how nice of you to visit. How the mousing trade? Brisk, I hope.'

The cat swished its tail in response.

'You're right. That was totally uncalled for, but I am such a wicked fellow that I simply couldn't resist.' His eyes gleamed at her. 'So, darling, what brings you to my humble,' he waved a hand at his surroundings, 'abode?'

The cat meowed.

He cocked his dark head to one side as if listening. 'It's awake, you say? Yes, yes, I can feel a very faint hint of it. It must be very far away. The aboveground most likely.' He shot a glance at her. 'How clever of Jareth to place it well beyond your dainty little paws.'

The cat growled low in its throat.

'Come now, Morwenna, there's no need to be vulgar. He beat you fair and square.' He rubbed his bottom lip thoughtfully. 'But I must say it's very unlike Jareth to take precautions. He's such an arrogant bastard that he can't conceive anyone being a threat to him.' The cat meowed, and he nodded. 'You're right. It's probably the woman. Female humans are unusually aware of their weaknesses. Meara was like that, you know. Wasn't I lucky that Ciarán unlike Jareth chose to ignore his good lady's fears?' He laughed as though delighted with himself and then looked at the cat. 'So, darling, how do you intend to retrieve the stone from the aboveground?'

The cat jumped to the ground and walked over to him. Leaping on the sofa, it walked itself up his long body until it was in his lap. Then it rubbed its face against his chest, purring. He made no move to pet the animal but just sat where he was, waiting for a reply. Finally, the cat meowed, looking up at him with slanted green eyes.

He laughed, loud and long, nearly dislodging the cat in his mirth.

'Please, Morwenna,' he finally said, 'give me some credit. It'll take more than that to convince me to do your dirty work. I detest the aboveground, and I'm not going grubbing about in it for a few kisses. For the life of me, I can't understand why Jareth spends so much time dabbling in it. It's packed full of fools and idiots.'

The cat jumped to the ground and returned to the window ledge, its tail swishing angrily. It sat for a few minutes, staring at him balefully before speaking once again.

'Help you?' The man exclaimed. 'Why on earth would I help you? I might as well put a noose around my neck and jump off the highest turret. I know your ambitions, my dear. You want the Goblin Kingdom, and once you have it, you will cast your eyes around and see the Elfstone Vale, sitting like a ripe peach ready for the plucking. I am not foolish enough to help you write my death warrant. Besides,' he said, uncurling himself from the lounger and walking over to her, 'I think I prefer you as a cat. You're much more…shall we say amendable?'

A paw flashed out.

'Temper, temper, darling.' He warned.

The cat growled.

'You know the price for my help. I believe we discussed it shortly after your defeat.' The cat exploded into a fit of meowing. 'Very well. As you so sweetly put it ~ your set back. Nevertheless, the price for my cooperation remains the same. I must have collateral.'

There was another long silence, man and cat staring at each other, then the cat meowed.

'As pleasant as you are in your current form, I doubt any magistrate even that daft one of Jareth's will marry me to a cat. Therefore,' he drawled, putting his hands behind his back and beginning to pace back and forth in front of the cat, 'I will have to retrieve the stone and turn you back into your lovely self before our agreement can be finalized. Very well. I'll do it.'

The cat stood up, purring, but suddenly it found itself dangling above the floor by the nap of its neck. Morwenna felt his fingers dig cruelly into her skin, and she hated him nearly as much as she hated Jareth.

'I have my ambitions too.' The man said with a voice like honed steel. 'And let me assure you, Morwenna, I'm not marrying you because of some undying love or devotion. That's Jareth's folly, not mine. This is a business arrangement, pure and simple, and if you double cross me your life will not be worth living. You'll wish like the bog that you'd stayed a cat. Do we understand each other, darling?'

The cat meowed piteously.

He dropped it to the floor and turned away, saying over his shoulder. 'I'll let you know when everything is arranged. Now get out. I find that I can't abide cats.'

***SCENE CHANGE***

Bob was up to his grimy elbows in plastic peanuts when the bell over the door tinkled weakly. Grumbling once again about professors, he put aside the brass dragon he'd just unpacked and shuffled out into the store room. His progress came to an abrupt halt at the sight of the man standing just inside the shop door.

_This was no professor_, Bob decided, eying the man's long dark hair, which was slicked back and tied with a ribbon at the nape. Bob's professors always had wisps of grey hair or no hair at all, and they favored tweed, not black turtlenecks under black jackets. They also didn't wear flashy gold rings on their pinkies.

'Can I help you?' Bob asked, hoping the man would say he'd come into the wrong shop, that he'd actually meant to go into the tobacco store next door.

The man flashed a dazzling white smile. Bob noticed his teeth were pointy. In the early 19th century, young men used to file their teeth into points like that, Bob remembered, but to his knowledge it had quickly dropped out of fashion. Despite his odd teeth, the man was strikingly handsome in a dark sort of way.

'I'm an antique dealer.' The man said pleasantly enough. 'I was passing by, saw your shop, and wondered if you might carry jewelry. You know the thing. Old cameos, rings, necklaces, the occasional gemstone.'

'Don't deal much in jewelry.' Bob muttered. 'Mostly deal in metal, but you're welcome to have a look around. But be quick about it. I close at six.'

The man flashed the smile again and sauntered off, disappearing into the cramped aisles that twisted around the store like a maze. Bob kept one eye on the customer and one on the clock. Never had time moved so slowly.

It was two minutes to six when the man materialized in front of him and said, 'Could I see that silver box?'

'What silver box?'

'The one on the counter behind you.'

A chill went down Bob's crooked spine. 'It ain't for sale.'

'Are you sure?'

'It don't belong to me.' Bob retorted. 'I'm just a' holding it for someone.'

'Such a pity.' The man murmured. 'Such a beautiful little box. I would have paid you handsomely for it.'

He moved his fingers, and Bob's eyes were drawn to the gold ring. It flashed and shone in the dim lighting above the counter. Bob felt his fingers begin to twitch as they always did whenever he saw a particularly fine specimen of metal.

'Do you like it?' The man asked, seeing the direction of Bob's gaze. 'It's very old, you know. It once belonged to Brian Boru.'

The ring moved again, and Bob felt his fascination growing.

'I bought it for the stone.' The man continued. 'It's an onyx, a very rare onyx. Perhaps you'd care to try it on.'

As though under a trance, Bob held out his hand for the ring. As soon as the man dropped it into his hand, his fingers snapped around it like a trap. He held it for a few moments, savoring its weight, enjoying its smooth texture, and then he opened his hand. The ring glittered up at him.

'Go ahead.' The man encouraged, his voice smooth like fine brandy. 'Put it on.'

Bob took the ring between his thumb and forefinger and slowly slid it onto one stubby finger.

The man smiled and as casually as if he were picking up a newspaper from a stand walked behind the counter and removed the silver box.

Like a dog scenting the wind for a rabbit, he had followed the stone's aura from the underground to the aboveground. It had led him to this dingy little shop. He had had his doubts when he'd pushed open the door, but it hadn't taken long to determine where the stone was. Now, holding the box, in his hands, he had no doubt. The Elfstone was inside, and it was awake. Tucking the box under his arm, he headed for the door.

With his hand on the knob, he looked back at the little man standing like a statue, his eyes fixed on the ring. Aboveground dwellers were such fools, and Jareth was a fool for trusting them.

'Don't worry, my good fellow,' he said, flashing another one of his odd smiles, 'it'll wear off in about an hour, and please keep the ring with my compliments. I'm sure Jareth will want to know who has his stone. Cheerio!'

The bell tinkled, and the man was gone, disappearing into the night.

***SCENE CHANGE***

Ronan reclined on his lounger, rolling the pale jewel through his fingers. It was warm, very warm, and it glowed brightly. _It was hard at work_, he mused, and he'd bet the bog that it wasn't working for Morwenna. No, this was the jewel from Meara's ring, and it was working for Meara and her offspring. What its intentions were, he couldn't guess, but he knew his intentions. He was going to use whatever it was doing to his advantage. He'd waited years to get his hands on this rock, and he wasn't about to turn it over to a cat.

He chuckled, tossing the stone into the air and catching in again. Morwenna was either incredibly desperate or just plain naïve to think that he'd be willing to share power with her. He knew as well as she did that they wouldn't be married longer than a fortnight before one of them ended up with a dagger in their back. Besides, if he were going to have a queen, he'd certainly choose someone more amendable than that hellcat. He smiled. Someone like Jareth's bride perhaps.

He knew what was written in the stars about the Goblin King and Elfstone Princess, but Ronan had never believed in such things. He believed a man made his own future. Hadn't he done just that when he'd betrayed his master and took his kingdom? That wasn't written in the stars, was it? No, Ronan had written it.

Now the Goblin Kingdom and Dark Wood lay before him, just like that ripe peach he'd mentioned, and he knew the key to defeating Jareth lay in Meara's child. They had hidden her from him all those years ago, but Jareth had conveniently found her again. And now he had the jewel, and the jewel was calling her. All he had to go was hold onto it.

A white cat jumped though the window, landing with silent paws on the flagstone floor.

'Morwenna, darling,' Ronan murmured, lazily turning his dark eyes upon her, 'I've been waiting for you.'


	3. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

_No Sense at All_

Sarah woke with a start. She lay, staring up at the ceiling, heart pounding. It was only a dream, she told herself. Calm down, just calm down. Slowly her heartbeat returned to normal, and her breath came a little easier. She lifted a hand to push hair away from her face and frowned. It was so wet she might have just finished a marathon. If the dream got any worse, she _wouldn't_ be able to hide it from Jareth any longer.

She turned her head on the pillow to look at the man sleeping beside her. His breathing was deep and even, his head turned away from her so that she could only see the back of his head. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch the pale strands, to assure herself that he was really there, but she stopped herself. She didn't want anything to wake him. She didn't want him to know about the dream. Not yet anyway.

It was still so vivid in her mind. Just remembering made her heart quicken. Shutting her eyes, she forced the memory away, pushing it into the farthest corner of her mind. She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to understand its meaning. She just wanted it far, far away. Unfortunately, she knew it would come back. Just as it had come back for nearly every night that week.

At first it had been nothing more than an uneasy feeling when she woke in the middle of the night, and she soon fell back to sleep. Then it had become an actual dream, but its occurrence had been rare. Only recently had it been coming more and more often, insisting that she pay attention, haunting her nightly. _Haunting_, she thought a little wildly. Yes, that was exactly what it was. A good old fashioned haunting.

As it often did, a sudden restlessness seized her, and she slipped from the bed, being careful not to wake Jareth. Snatching up the robe lying at the foot of the bed, she nearly ran into the antechamber. The room was dark, very dark. The firepots had burned out hours ago, and there was no moon. It was hidden behind thick clouds.

She automatically went for the window. Perhaps it represented freedom, perhaps she just needed fresh air, whatever the reason, she climbed onto the ledge. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she sat, staring down at the Goblin City. Puddles from the earlier rain glowed orange. Wormwood had forgotten to snuff out the streetlamps again. Jareth would be furious when he found out.

Oil, he would say as he pointed his crop at the goblin, did not grow on trees. It had to be purchased, and the oil merchant only came around every six months. Because of Wormwood's irresponsibility, the Goblin City would have to go without streetlamps for a month. Then he would tell the goblin just how much that oil was costing the treasury, and the goblin would nod happily as though he was getting a pat on the hand rather than a dressing down. _Poor Jareth_, Sarah sighed. No wonder he had a temper. Ruling goblins was like ruling adolescents. In one ear and out the other.

A breeze wafted in, bringing the smell of damp earth and chicken feathers, and she shivered, pulling the robe tighter around herself as remnants of the dream lingered, nibbling around the edges of her conscience. _It wasn't a nightmare_, she told herself sternly. So there was no call for all these shivers and shakes. It was just…_disturbing_, and its increasing frequency alarmed her. She had this terrible feeling that it was telling her something that she ought to know and had forgotten.

_And why now_, she wondered, leaning her head back against the stone wall. Why after all these years had it chosen now to haunt her? She rarely even thought of her mother these days. After returning from her adventure in the labyrinth, she had gathered up the pictures on her vanity and put them and the scrapbook away in a box beneath her bed. She no longer followed the career of Linda Williams, no longer dreamed of becoming an actress.

She had a fuzzy idea that it had all started with that merry-go-round illusion that Morwenna had sent her. Why chose her mother to draw her from the castle? Wouldn't Jareth have been a more compelling lure? Obviously, Morwenna hadn't thought so. Had the Dark Queen actually chosen the illusion or had the whirling green teardrop detected some hidden desire on Sarah's part?

These were the questions that tormented her. Whenever the dream came it seemed to draw more and more questions out of her, throwing her into deeper confusion. And now was not the time she wanted to deal with such things. For the first time in her life, she was really happy. Nearly three years of marriage to Jareth had brought a joy she had not expected or even hoped for, and she didn't want a dream interfering.

Oh, sure, they'd their battles. Those couldn't be avoided between two people with such strong wills. But overall, she had no regrets. The only disappointment she could name was that there'd been no child, but Jareth had said that no child had ever been born to a Goblin King so she'd accepted it…almost. She did intend to see a doctor the next time she visited Toby in the aboveground.

The breeze blew again, this time bringing with it a shower of raindrops, and she quickly left the ledge, returning to the bedchamber where Jareth still slept. She was beginning to feel sleepy again. The dream was fading even though the questions were still strong within her. _But they could wait_, she decided, removing her robe and slipping back under the covers.

The movement disturbed Jareth, and he rolled over with a sigh, his arms reaching out, seeking her. She turned into them, and he pulled her close.

'You're cold.' He mumbled, voice thick with sleep. 'Been roaming again?'

No matter how careful she was, he always woke up when she came back to bed.

'I thought I heard a noise.'

'That's the fourth time this week, isn't it?' He was waking up now. 'If those goblins are tossing pumpkins again when I've established a curfew, I'll…'

She put two fingers to his lips, silencing him. 'It's not the goblins. They're all tucked away in their beds. It's…it's probably just a mouse or something.'

'I'll get you a cat tomorrow.'

'I don't like cats.' She said, remembering the white one roaming the Wood.

'Then a trap.'

'You know all we're likely to catch are goblins.'

'I won't have you losing sleep…'

Once again, she stopped him. 'I'm not losing sleep. I just got up to have a quick look, that's all.' She paused and then added. 'Wormwood forgot to snuff out the streetlamps again.'

That got his attention. He sat up and made as though to get out of bed. 'That's does it. He's had his final warning. It's the Bog for him, hanging by his thumbs, I think.'

Sarah reached for him, pulling him back into the bed. 'It can wait until morning.'

'Sarah,' he said, once again trying to get up, 'if those lamps burn any longer, the city won't have light for a month, and you know the goblins whine about going home in the dark. They'll be pestering us night and day, wanting to sleep in the throne room again. We just got rid of the smell. Do you want to have to call in the cleaners again?'

'Can't you use your crystals?'

'Crystals are meant for magic, not keeping a blasted city lit.'

She was beginning to regret she'd even mentioned it. She hadn't expected him to go running off in the middle of the night to shake Wormwood from his bed. She had only wanted to divert his attention away from her onto something else. _Well, if she diverted it off, she could divert it back…in a way not associated with her roaming,_ she decided, sitting up and letting the sheet drop to her waist. She leaned over and lit the firepot on the bedside table. Then she turned back to him.

'Well, if you think it's that important,' she said, sliding a leg out from beneath the covers, 'I'll go with you.'

Jareth's eyes followed the leg before coming to rest upon the rest of her. His eyes darkened, and her breathing became a little less steady in anticipation of what was coming.

'Maybe I could use…one…crystal.' He amended.

In the Goblin City the lamps continued to burn, forgotten by Wormwood who was dreaming of chickens and forgotten by the King and Queen who were rediscovering what really was important.

***SCENE CHANGE***

Jareth watched his wife walk back and forth, back and forth through the castle garden. There hadn't been a garden until Sarah became queen. Shortly after she'd had the library cleaned and polished, she'd put the goblins to work tilling ground and planting flowers. He could have created a garden for her with the wave of his hand, but she'd insisted on doing it herself. He'd thought she'd meant to use her gloves, she certainly needed the practice, but she hadn't. She'd done things the hard way…much to the goblins' disgust. There'd still been too much of the aboveground in her.

He frowned. Was there _still_ too much of the aboveground in her? Was that why she was looking so distracted as she paced among the hibiscus blossoms? Was she missing…his frown deepened…home? The thought that she might be regretting her decision to stay in the underground sent a cold chill down his spine. He had done everything in his power to make her happy, and she _was _happy. She'd told him so only last night as they'd lain among the sheets, hot, damp and naked. So why the late night wanderings, why this absent-minded pacing?

Something was bothering her. That much was obvious. And when Sarah was bothered, he was bothered. He only wished he knew what they were bothered about. The only thing that seemed remotely plausible was the lack of a child. He knew she wanted one, but he'd warned her. He'd told her that a child had never been born to a Goblin King. But she had continued to believe that _they_ were different.

Her optimism had even infected him. The thought of having a child had intrigued him, but when time had passed and no child had appeared, he had accepted that Toby would be the next Goblin King. It had not been difficult for him to accept what he had known from the very beginning. The underground had its rules, and this was one of them. Sarah, however…

Of course, she had not acted as though she were terribly disappointed. She hadn't even really mentioned it. But if it was not the lack of a child, what else could it be? What else could be causing this unusual behavior? His mind returned to his original thought. By the bog, she simply _couldn't_ be missing that insipid, colorless place called home. The very thought made his lip curl in scorn.

What could she possibly get there that she couldn't get in the underground? _Nothing, absolutely nothing_, he assured himself. He'd given her everything her heart could desire doubled, tripled even. She wanted for nothing. She was cherished like no other woman before her. He was her slave yet here she was pacing a rut into the grass the goblins trimmed every other day. It made no sense, no sense at all.

Jareth's fingers tightened around the riding crop as a tidal wave of insecurity tumbled over him. She belonged here with him, and he wasn't going to let her go. She'd made her choice, and he'd hold her to it. There were no second thoughts in the underground. He didn't want to hear anything about regrets or mistakes or…or going home. She would stay.

_And how are you going to make her stay_, an insidious voice asked, _you have no power over her._

With a barely contained snarl, he turned on his heel and stalked off toward the throne room. He needed a goblin to kick.

***SCENE CHANGE***

Sarah glanced at her husband, and then she glanced at Rum-Pot and Babineaux who were looking at her, their small red eyes pleading. The Goblin King was in a high temper, and they were eager to depart, having already been abused with a crop, the toe of a boot and a roast chicken. She would have given into their silent plea and given them permission to go, but even she was walking on eggshells around Jareth that evening.

_What in the world has gotten into him_, she wondered, watching him stare at the serene surface of his wineglass as though it were one of his crystals. His expression was sterner than she'd seen it in a long time, the lines along his mouth deep, his lips pulled into a tight line. She couldn't think what could have riled him so. In his present mood how was she going to tell him that she was going home for a few days?

Even when he was relaxed and smiling, he didn't take her visits to the aboveground very well. There was usually quite a bit of sulking and goblin kicking leading up to her departure, but he had never refused to let her go. He knew better. Tonight, however, he was in the mood to be obstinate, and if she could have, she would have postponed the trip. Unfortunately, it couldn't wait. The dream was becoming uncontrollable.

That afternoon she had finally come to a decision. She would ask her father the questions about her mother that she'd never asked. It was the only way to understand the dream. And maybe once she understood it, peace would return. She wasn't at all sure that it would, but it was worth a try. She'd felt some relief at her decision, but now, sitting across from her husband at the dining room table, dread returned. The next few minutes were not going to be pleasant. Best to clear the room.

She turned to Rum-Pot. 'You and Babineaux can leave us now. I'll tidy up.'

The goblins scurried for the door, but Jareth's voice stopped them in their tracks.

'I shall not have _my_ queen 'tidying up'.' Jareth declared. 'The goblins will do it. Why else do I keep the rotten little scabs around?' He sent Rum-Pot a fierce glare. 'Rum-Plot, remove the dishes at once. It should have been done ten minutes ago. And you,' he said, pointing his crop at Babineaux, 'get me another bottle of wine and don't take a snort or two on your way back.'

The goblins tumbled over themselves to do his bidding. _Well, at least, it's gotten them out of the room_, Sarah thought as she turned to her husband. He looked no more unapproachable than he had before, but it was now or never.

'Jareth,' she said, pushing aside her half eaten chocolate cake, 'tomorrow, I'm going to the aboveground…'

There was a crack, and she was surprised, astounded even, to see wine running across the table and dripping onto the floor. As though it were a common occurrence, Jareth calmly dropped the broken bits of wineglass onto the floor and reached for his napkin, which he used to wipe his gloved hand. Then he tossed it aside. Babineaux who had returned with the requested bottle quickly filled another wineglass.

'Was that necessary?' Sarah asked.

'No,' Jareth agreed coolly, picking up the new wineglass, 'but it was entirely satisfying. You should try it some time. With gloves, of course. I wouldn't want those lovely hands of yours cut to pieces.'

Sarah glanced at her hands. She wasn't wearing her gloves. She rarely did even though she knew she should since they would keep her from aging. But at twenty-seven she wasn't terribly concerned about showing her age yet. Maybe next year…she frowned. He'd distracted her.

'As I was saying,' she began again, 'I'm going home…'

'Why?' He demanded. 'What's up there that's not down here?'

'Maybe if you'd let me finish,' she snapped, 'I'd have an opportunity to tell you.'

He waved his wineglass at her. 'By all means, my dove, please continue.'

'I want to see Toby and my father…'

Once again he interrupted. 'I'll bring Toby here. It's about time for another lesson.'

She shook her head. 'It's my father that I really going there to see.'

'I didn't know you were particularly fond of your father.' He looked at her over his wineglass, his eyes shuttered so she had no hint of what he was thinking or feeling. 'I had the distinct impression that things hadn't been the same between the two of you since he married your stepmother. That's the real reason you called me all those years ago, wasn't it? Cinderella couldn't handle it anymore.'

Sarah stared at him, stunned by his sarcasm.

'Jareth,' she finally said, 'what's gotten into you this evening? You're being a…a…'

'A Goblin King?' He suggested with a cruel twist of his lips.

'I was going to say a beast,' she retorted, 'but if you prefer Goblin King, then by all means, we'll use Goblin King to describe your nasty, rude behavior.'

'Agreed.' He said, draining his wineglass and motioning to Babineaux to refill it.

'I think you've had more than enough.' Sarah stated, getting up and taking the bottle from the goblin.

She was about to tuck it under her arm when it flew out of her hands right into Jareth's. He made a tsking sound at her expression of outrage and refilled the glass himself.

'That's what happens when you don't wear your gloves.' He told her with a pointy-toothed grin that didn't reach his eyes. 'So tell me, sweeting, why do you have this burning desire to see your,' he paused over the word, 'papa?'

'Does there have to be reason? He's my father. That should be reason enough.'

'And how long will you be gone?'

'A week, maybe two.'

'That's an excessive amount of time to spend visiting a brother and father.' Jareth noted. 'Most of your visits have only lasted for a day or two.'

'I have a few errands to run.' Sarah said, thinking of the doctor she hoped to see.

'Is that all?'

His voice indicated that it had better be.

'Really, Jareth,' she scoffed, annoyed at his questioning, his possessiveness, 'it's not like we're Siamese Twins joined at the hip, you know. It's the 20th century. Men and women don't live in each other's pocket. They have their space.'

She'd gone too far. The wineglass crashed down on the table, barely managing to avoid ending up like the other one. Babineaux dived for cover under the table while Sarah took an involuntary step back as Jareth rose to his full height. He had chosen to wear his high collared cape that evening, and it only worked to his advantage, making him appear larger and more threatening.

'So you want your _space, _do you?' He demanded, eyes blazing. 'Fine. You can have all the _space_ you want and need. Never let it be said that the Goblin King isn't responsive to his queen's every wish and desire. Never let it be said that the Goblin King isn't generous to a fault. Go!' He thundered. 'Go back to your father and brother! Go back to your university and your books and those insipid buggers that follow at your heels like dogs! Go!'

And with that he disappeared. Just like that. One second he was there in a towering rage and the next he was gone. He didn't even bother with any sparkles or glitters.

'Jareth!' Sarah yelled at the empty room. 'Come back here at once!' When he didn't respond, she shouted all the more loudly. 'How dare you disappear like that! You're,' she paused for breath, 'you're acting like a ten year old child!' Still no answer. She picked up the half empty wine bottle and hurled it at the hearth. It broke with a satisfying crash. 'Too bad it wasn't your head!' Then she plopped down on her chair, put her head in her hands and burst into tears.


	4. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

_Another First_

'Sarah!' Toby called, taking the stairs two at a time. 'Sarah! I got it! I got the part!'

Sarah pasted a smile on her face and turned from the window just as Toby exploded into her room, all arms and legs and grins. _How tall he's gotten_, she thought. And good-looking too. She wondered what Merib would think of him. The little water sprite had also gone through a transformation over the last three years, growing taller and slimmer and quite pretty. She and Toby had not seen each other for nearly a year.

'What part?' Sarah asked as her kid brother grabbed her in his arms and twirled her around in circles.

'The part of Puck in the drama club's production of 'Midsummer's Night Dream'.' Toby told her with a wide grin. 'I wanted the role of Oberon, to practice being a king, you know, but Mrs. Buchannan thought I'd make a better Puck. She said I looked as though I had a touch of the fae about me. If only she knew, huh?'

For the first time since arriving home, Sarah flashed a genuine smile. 'That's wonderful, Toby! I'm so happy for you!'

'And I have you to thank for it.' Toby continued. 'All those summers we spent acting out books really paid off. Normally Freshman don't get speaking parts.'

'I'm proud of you, Toby.' Sarah said. 'I really am.'

'We're supposed to put it on June 30th. Midsummer Night, you know. You'll come and see it, won't you?' He asked hopefully. 'And bring Jareth with you. He ought to get a kick out of humans pretending to be faeries.'

Sarah's smile faded. 'I'll see what I can do. He's…he's rather busy at the moment.'

There must have been something in her voice because Toby stopped his chattering and looked at her long and hard. 'Is everything alright, sis? You've been sort of, oh, I don't know, sort of 'not yourself', if you know what I mean. And you've never stayed here this long before. You've been here what? Four days?'

'Mm-hm,' Sarah agreed, 'and your mother is becoming restless.'

'Oh, don't mind her.' Toby scoffed. 'She just likes being the center of attention, and when you're here, she's not. But, you didn't answer the question. Is everything alright?'

_No, Toby,_ she thought, _everything was not alright._ The Goblin King was still pouting, refusing to answer her summons, and the dream had not abated in the least. On top of that she'd not been able to run her father to ground. So far the trip had been a total disaster. But she couldn't tell him that.

'Everything's fine.' She assured him with another one of those plastic smiles.

'Really?'

'Really.'

'Then why do you get up in the middle of the night and go downstairs?'

'I didn't know you were such a light sleeper.'

'I've been staying up late memorizing verses for the try-out.'

'Ah.'

'Come on, sis, you can tell me.' Toby urged. 'We've been through a lot together. Hardships unnumbered and dangers untold, right? Heck, I'm the only one who knows that the Sarah in Chicago is really a goblin named Grotto.'

'How is she?'

'Getting married.'

'Married!' Sarah exclaimed. It was rather a surprise to find out you're getting married. 'To who?'

'You're not going to believe this.' Toby said with a wide grin.

'Who?' Sarah demanded.

'Paul.'

'Paul?' Sarah echoed. 'You mean the guy with the Ken doll hair, the one that goes around poking into people's heads?'

'Yep. That's the one.'

Sarah frowned. 'Why didn't dad mention it? He must have thought it odd that I'm here alone and haven't even mentioned a fiancé.' She sent Toby a glare. '_You _should have mentioned it.'

Toby raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. 'Hey, I tried, but like I said, you haven't been yourself. You spend the nights wandering the house and the days staring out the window. Obviously, you're a woman with something on her mind. That's probably why dad hasn't said anything. He probably thought you two had a fight or something.'

Once again there was a question in his voice, and she would bet her last dollar that he was not referring to her so-called relationship with Paul. He had guessed that all was not peaches and cream between the Goblin King and Queen. She sighed inwardly. Was she so obvious? She'd thought herself a better actress than that.

'Jareth and I had a little disagreement.' She finally admitted.

'I can't imagine anything being 'little' with Jareth. He's the exploding rocket type.'

'You're right. It wasn't little. It was big.' She said, turning away from him to walk over to the window. She stared down at the grass just beginning to green. 'He never likes me leaving the underground, but this time, he was…well, he was a perfect beast about it. That morning he was fine, in a good mood even, but that evening, well, let's just say he was looking for a fight. To make a long story short, we had words, and he disappeared. Just like that.' She snapped her fingers for emphasis. 'I should have used that heart to chase him down, but I just didn't think of it. I came here instead. And now no matter how much I call, he ignores me. Honestly, Tobes, I don't understand it. I don't know what's gotten into him.'

'Well, he _is _the Goblin King.' Toby reminded her. 'He's not known for his jovial personality.'

'But he hasn't been like that in years.' Sarah protested. 'He's…mellowed.'

Toby laughed. 'Jareth? Mellowed? That's like saying Mt. Vesuvius is no longer a volcano.'

Sarah made a face at him. 'Well, none of this would have happened if it hadn't been for that damn dream.'

'Dream?' Toby asked. 'What dream?'

She'd gone this far, she might as well tell him everything. 'I've been having this dream about my mother. At first I only got it occasionally, but lately, it's been every night. That's why I get up and go downstairs. It makes me…restless.'

'You mean it scares you? Like a nightmare?'

'No, it doesn't scare me. It just makes me think that there's something I ought to know but don't. Something important. It's like trying to remember something, but it's just beyond your memory. And it won't leave me alone. It's like it wants me to remember, and it's going to pester me until I do. That's why I came to visit. I had hoped to talk to dad about my mom, but so far, I haven't been able to get him to sit still long enough.' She turned to look at him again, one eyebrow going up. 'Is it my imagination or do you guys have an awful lot of plumbing problems in this house?'

Toby laughed once again. 'You noticed that, huh?'

'How couldn't I? He's been carrying a wrench around with him since I got here.'

'I think he's afraid you're going to ask him what to do about Paul.'

'If he doesn't want to talk to me about Paul, then he sure as hell isn't going to want to talk to me about my mom. I guess I'm going to have to get creative. Will you help me?'

'Sure. What do you want me to do?'

'When I think of something, I'll let you know.'

'And what about Jareth? What are you going to do about him?'

She shrugged. 'Keep calling him, I guess.'

'Too bad you don't have your gloves with you.'

'Why?'

'You could snap your fingers and make him appear.'

'I don't think either one of us is prepared for the tongue-lashing we'd get if I did that. Besides, I don't fancy hanging by my thumbs in the Bog of Eternal Stench. Do you?'

'He wouldn't do that to you.'

'Maybe not but I'm not going to put him to the test.' She left the window, walking over to her brother. 'I think it's best to let him chose when he's ready to appear. In the meantime how about I help you with your lines? We have a couple hours before dad and your mom get home. Let's walk down to the pond and get started.'

'I'll get my jacket.'

***SCENE CHANGE***

Jareth sat in his empty throne room, one long leg thrown over the arm of the chair in a negligent fashion. As he had once before, he stared at the clock on the room, tapping his crop in rhythm with the ticks. It's been five days. _Five days!_ And she still hadn't come back. His angry words haunted him. _Go! Go back to your father and your brother!_ _Go back to your university and your books and those insipid buggers that follow at your heels like dogs! Go!_

What in the world had possessed him to say that? It was completely contrary to his character and true feelings. He hadn't wanted her to go. He'd wanted her to stay. Yet he'd told her to go in no uncertain terms…and she had! Just like that. The cheek of the woman!

What a fool he'd been. He should have locked her up in their bedchamber and thrown away the key. No, you barmy bastard, she wouldn't have liked that either. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with a gloved hand. You would think after all these years of watching her, studying her, loving her he'd know how to handle Sarah Williams.

But obviously he didn't. Otherwise, he wouldn't be sitting in an empty throne room, staring at a blasted clock, wondering what the bog had happened to his marriage. He would have dearly loved to kick a goblin just then, but he'd banned them from the throne room unless summoned. He had even posted that daft fox at the door to keep them at bay. It had cost a small fortune to get rid of the smell, and he wasn't willing to let the goblins stink it up again, no matter how miserable he felt.

There was a knock on the door and Sir Deadmouse appeared, resplendent in gold livery and feathered cap. 'Pardon me, my liege, but Governor Hoggle of the Dark Wood…'

'It's Hoggle, just plain Hoggle.' A voice yelled from the hallway.

'…requests an audience with the King. Is His Royal Highness available for consultation?'

Jareth frowned. He never quite understood what the funny little fellow said. It sounded like a bunch of Shakespearean mumbo-jumbo, and by the bog, he hated Shakespeare. Bald-headed, long-winded git that he'd been. Nevertheless, he waved his crop.

'Send him in, send him in. I have nothing better to do.'

Hoggle pushed the fox aside and strode into the room. 'Well,' he demanded, 'haven't you gone and got her yet?'

Jareth stared at the dwarf, his eyes cold. 'Higgle, I've noticed a marked decline in the way you address me lately. You've become much too familiar. Governor or not, I can still send you to the bog.'

'Bog shmog.' Hoggle stated. 'It don't scare me none. Can't be any worse than that damnable forest you've put me in charge of.'

'What complaint do you have _now_?' Jareth asked as though he'd already heard them all.

'I ain't come here with any complaint.'

'So miracles do happen.'

'I've come wanting to know when you're going to go get the little lady.'

'You concern yourself too much with _the little lady_.' Jareth snapped. 'She's _my _queen.'

'Then you ought to go and get her.'

'She doesn't want to be 'got'.' Jareth said through clenched teeth. 'She chose to go to the aboveground. If she wants to come back, she knows the way.'

Hoggle and Sir Didymus glanced at each other. Then they shook their heads sadly.

'Pardon me, my liege, but wouldn't it hasten things to a more glorious end if you just went to her? She, ah, has been calling for nearly a week.'

'Hogwash.' Hoggle declared. 'Just go and tell her you're sorry and be done with it.'

'Tell her I'm sorry?' Jareth repeated incredulously. 'What in the bog for? _She's_ the one who left.'

'You're the one who told her to go.' Hoggle countered.

Sir Didymus winced. As he'd expected, Jareth shot to his feet and stood glaring down at them. Fortunately, he'd forgone the cape and was dressed more casually in pantaloons, vest and frilled shirt, making him a great deal less threatening. Nevertheless, with those mismatched eyes blazing down at them, it was enough to make a valiant fox's knees knock.

'Who,' his voice was as deadly as a stiletto, 'told you that?'

Even Hoggle had lost some of his bravado and said somewhat weakly. 'Would you believe a little bird?'

'It was Babu, wasn't it?' Jareth demanded. 'Come now, out with it. It's no use protecting that traitorous toad.'

'My lips are sealed.' Hoggle declared.

'Higgle, Higgle, it pains me to see you lie. Really it does' Jareth said, shaking his head sadly. 'I'm afraid I'm just going to have to make an honest dwarf out of you.'

He snapped his fingers, and Hoggle's mouth snapped shut. Frantically he tried prying his lips apart, but they were stuck tight.

Jareth laughed. 'Finally! Peace and quiet.' His eyes slid to Sir Didymus. 'Come now, you're an honest fellow. Tell me the truth. It was Babu, wasn't it?'

The fox pulled himself to his full height. 'Your conversation that evening was audible in all parts of the castle, and at the risk of being rude, my liege, I must say I was appalled at your behavior. It was…well…boorish.' He gave a sniff and added. 'Quite boorish.'

'I was perfectly civil.' Jareth retorted, surprised at the fox's courage. '_She _was the one that said she needed space.'

'Well, my liege, you do tend to…crowd…a bit.'

Jareth stalked over to the window and then stalked back, considering, and then finally said. 'I might have a small, and I do emphasize _small_, issue with being possessive, but,' he added like a lawyer delivering the salient point of his argument, '_she's_ got a similar issue with being too independent. Always has to do everything herself.'

'Sounds like a match made in heaven.' Hoggle grumbled as he finally managed to pry his lips apart. He smacked them up and down to make sure they still worked properly before saying. 'No use playing the blame game. Fact of the matter is, she ain't coming back unless you go get her. That's just the way women is.'

There was a long silence in which the clock continued to keep track of the minutes that Sarah had been gone. Finally, reluctantly, with something very akin to physical pain at the thought of such a thing, Jareth said. 'Exactly how does one apologize?'

'Glad you asked.' Hoggle said, rubbing his hands together as if readying them for work. 'Here's what you do…'

***SCENE CHANGE***

Sarah was just putting the roast in the oven when the doorbell rang. She glanced at the clock. Just a few minutes after four o'clock. She had an hour or so to get rid of whoever it was, otherwise, dinner would be delayed. Shoving the pan into the oven, she closed the door with a snap and headed for the front door. Hopefully it wasn't one of those ladies from Karen's mah jong group. They were always trying to get her to join them. Better take a look before opening the door.

Twitching aside the curtain, she peered outside. It was a man, standing with his back to the door as he surveyed the neighborhood behind him. He was dressed in black jeans and a black bomber's jacket, his hair, which gleamed platinum in the fading light, just brushed the collar of his coat. _A salesman_, she wondered, opening the door.

'I'm sorry,' she said, 'but the lady of the house isn't in, you'll have to come back…'

Her words came to an abrupt end. The man had turned, and she found herself looking up into the mismatched eyes of her husband.

'Jareth,' she breathed, 'what are you doing here?'

'You called me, didn't you?'

'Yes, but I didn't expect you to arrive like this. You normally use the window.'

'I've been told that it's high time I become a part of your world, and apparently being a part of your world involves entering through the front door and wearing,' he cast a glance down his body, 'dismally bland clothes.'

She hid a smile. 'You look very…normal.'

'How depressing.' His eyes returned to hers. 'May I come in?'

She'd been so busy admiring him in 20th century garb that she'd forgotten he was still standing on the doorstep. Hastily she took a step backwards. 'Of course, come in.'

He strode into her father's house as he would have stridden into the Goblin Castle…as lord and master. As far as Jareth was concerned, everything belonged to him, and he wasn't shy about showing it.

Coming to a stop just inside the foyer, he looked around. 'It's small. This place couldn't hold more than four and twenty goblins.'

'It's not used for housing goblins.' She told him, returning to the kitchen. As she had hoped, he followed. 'It houses my father, stepmother and Toby very well. It even has enough room for me.'

He didn't like that last bit for he scowled. 'A hovel like this isn't suitable for a queen.'

'I'm not a queen here.' She said, opening the refrigerator and taking out a head of lettuce. 'I'm just plain Sarah Williams.'

'I don't understand what you see in this place.' He muttered. 'You belong in the underground. You've always belonged in the underground. If it hadn't been for…'

She glanced up at him. 'Hadn't been for what?'

'If it hadn't been for me telling you go, you wouldn't be here washing lettuce like some common skivvy.'

_Good save_, she thought, watching him beneath her lashes. That was not what he'd been going to say. He'd been going to say something entirely different, something that he didn't think she ought to hear. She wanted to press him, but she knew Jareth too well for that. He could be stubbornly close-lipped when the mood struck him.

'Why are you really here, Jareth?'

'Shouldn't a husband be where his wife is?'

'Yes.' She said, nodding. 'But I always got the impression that you held the opposite view. That a wife should be where her husband is, not the other way around.'

He suddenly looked uncomfortable and covered his unease by removing his jacket and slinging it across a nearby chair. Then he turned and looked at her again, and she was struck by how attractive he looked in his modern clothing. His hair, cut short but not too short, was particularly appealing. It gleamed like white gold beneath the kitchen lights.

'Sarah,' he said, coming around to her side of the counter, 'I missed you.'

She jumped a little as his hand touched her arm, sliding up to her shoulder.

'You could have fooled me.' She retorted, tearing at the lettuce. 'If you miss someone, you don't ignore them.'

'Hogwart said you were going to make this difficult.' Jareth said with a sigh. 'He claims this is 'how women is'. His words, not mine.'

'Oh, that's funny!' Sarah said with a laugh. 'And how would he know? Sharing a few mugs of ale with Tipper in the pub doesn't make him an expert on women.'

'Apparently nearly three years of marriage doesn't make me one either.'

That comment had her turning around to confront him face to face. Too late she realized her mistake. He'd been standing close behind her, and by turning, she had put her front half in dangerously close contact with his, setting off little electrical currents that she struggled to ignore.

'There is a point to this, isn't there?'

His eyes, which had been staring down at her with a heat that made her breath come in little pants, suddenly shifted to one side, and he backed up a little, putting some distance between them. 'I…' he cleared his throat and tried again. 'The other evening, I might have been, as someone described it, boorish…' He stopped again.

Suddenly comprehensive dawned.

'Are you trying to say you regret what you said to me five days ago?'

'Something like that.'

'It must have been pure torture for you to admit that.' She noted.

'The bog would have been preferable.'

Her hands came to rest on his chest before sliding up to his shoulders. Fingers tangled in the hair at his nape. 'I like your hair like this.'

'That's good to hear.' He said. 'Since it's bloody well stuck like this until we return to the underground.'

'Can't you use your magic to make it grow again?'

'Let's just say my powers are limited here. Rather like a faulty switch. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. And seeing as how it's my hair, I don't fancy chancing it.'

She leaned forward, placing her lips against his ear. 'I missed you too, Jareth, and I accept your apology.' She pulled back, smiling. 'I guess we've achieved another first.'

He didn't look impressed. 'And what would that be?

'The Goblin King's first apology.'

'If you tell anyone,' he threatened, sliding his hands down her back, 'I will deny it most strenuously. I might even be forced to send you to the bog to prove how cruel and heartless I really am.'

'I understand.' She assured him. 'Your secret is safe with me.'

The last word ended in a gasp as his fingers touched her bare stomach. He had found the zip of her jeans.

'A dress would be more convenient for this kind of thing.' He noted.

'You're right.' Sarah said. 'But we are living in the modern world at the moment and have to make do.'

He made a little growl as he reached for his own zip.

They hadn't been together in five days, and it showed. Their lovemaking was fast and furious and left them panting as though they'd just run a marathon.

'That wasn't what I'd intended.' He said, lifting his head from her shoulder to look down at her.

'No?' She murmured. 'Such a pity.'

His eyeteeth flashed at her and then he was helping her off the counter. The clock in the hallway struck five.

'Oh, hell,' Sarah muttered, hurrying into her jeans. 'Dad will be home any minute.'

As if on cue, the garage door rumbled, and then Sarah's father was striding into the house.

'Sarah!' He called. 'You home?'

'In the kitchen!'

David Williams came around the corner, smiling broadly, and then stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Jareth seated on one of the stool along the counter. He paused as though uncertain and then came forward, hand outstretched.

'You must be Paul.'

Jareth stared at his hand as though it were a foreign object. Goblin Kings did not shake hands.

'Dad!' Sarah cried, rushing around the counter and placing herself between the two men. 'You've got it wrong. This is Jareth…uh…King, Jareth King, not Paul.'

Her father frowned. 'Really? I could have sworn Nan said it was Paul. But,' he said with an easy smile, 'you know your stepmom. Not much of a head for names.' He looked at Jareth. 'Unusual name. Welsh, isn't it?'

Somewhere in that general vicinity.' Jareth allowed.

'Well, it's great to meet you at last.' David went on, undeterred by the rather tepid response he was getting. 'You're the shrink, right?'

'I certainly hope not.'

'Jareth hasn't started practicing yet.' Sarah interrupted. 'He's, uh, teaching. At the university. Isn't that right, darling?'

'If you say so.'

Sarah turned back to her father. 'Why don't you go up and get changed? Nancy's picking up Toby from play practice, but they ought to be here any minute, and then we'll have dinner. It's pot roast tonight.'

'Hey, my favorite.' Dave Williams said, giving his daughter a chuck under the chin. 'Don't want to miss that. I'll be right down.'

Sarah watched her father job lightly up the stairs and then turned back to Jareth. From the look on his face, she knew he felt that she had a lot of explaining to do. Although his lips didn't say it, his eyes were. _Who's Paul?_ Pretending not to notice his silent demand, she returned to her lettuce.

'Hope you like pot roast.'

'I will endeavor to endure it.'

***SCENE CHANGE***

He wasted no time asking the question she'd been anticipating all evening.

'Who,' he demanded as soon as the bedroom door was closed behind them, 'is Paul?'

'Did you like the pot roast?' Sarah asked, going over to the window and opening it. It had been an unseasonably warm day for April. The scent of lilac drifted in.

'Blast the pot roast. Answer the question.'

'He was just someone I knew from the university.'

'I got the distinct impression from your family that he was a bit more than that.'

'We might have dated once or twice, but nothing ever came of it.'

'Then why,' Jareth asked with clipped precision, 'does your family think you're going to marry him?'

She turned around, her expression imploring. 'Believe me, Jareth, I was just as appalled as you when Toby told me. It came as a complete surprise. Honest. Bowled me right off my feet. I mean we're not even compatible. He's got this perfect, Ken doll-like hair, and I like hair that's sort of a free spirit. I mean there must be something repressed about a guy with plastic hair, right?'

'It's like talking to Higgle.' Jareth muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose before sending her a baleful look. 'Forget the hair. Just tell me what Toby told you.'

'He told me that Sarah, or rather the goblin everybody thinks is Sarah, is going to marry Paul.'

There was a pause as Jareth digested this piece of information.

'In other words,' he finally said, 'he's going to marry you.'

'That's about the gist of it.'

'Over my dead body. I'll turn him into a blooming toadstool before I let him marry my wife.'

'He's not marrying your wife.' Sarah pointed out. 'He's marrying your goblin.'

Again there was a pause, and then Jareth sat down on the bed. 'Well, that's ok then.'

Sarah gaped at him. 'It's not ok. How can you say it's ok? We can't let Paul marry a goblin.'

'Why not? They're really very affectionate creatures once you get to know them.'

'It wouldn't be right.'

'He fell in love with it.' Jareth pointed out, removing his right boot and flinging it across the room. The left followed. 'It's his goblin now. I rescind all ownership. May they live in wedded bliss, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.'

'And what's my family going to think when Sarah the goblin shows up with Paul in tow instead of Jareth?' He scowled across the room at her. 'It's going to cause a lot of questions we don't want to answer.'

'When you put it like that,' Jareth said irritably, 'I suppose I will _have_ to something with that blasted goblin. Do you have any suggestions, sweetings?'

Sarah joined him on the bed, glad that he was finally cooperating. 'I figure we're got two options. Either we arrange for Sarah's untimely death, auto wreck or something like that, or she'll have to get a job far, far away where them visiting is out of the question. Since I don't fancy myself dead, I suggest you recall Grotto from assignment. Then I'll let Paul down easy and I tell my family you've got this great job offer in Jakarta and we'll visit when we can. How's that?

'Dreadful.'

'Then you think of something, hotshot.'

'I said it was dreadful. I didn't say it wouldn't work.' He pulled his navy sweater over his head, flinging it after his boots. Then he reached for his zip. 'If I'm going to recall Grotto, I might as well recall Dreeble too.'

'Dreeble? Who's Dreeble?'

'Oh, just another goblin gone astray.'

Sarah frowned up at him. 'Does this happen often? Goblins going astray?'

'No, not often.'

'Then how…' her words were blocked by his mouth.

He kissed her long and hard, pushing her back down upon the mattress. She wanted to know more about this Dreeble and how he'd come to be lost, but what Jareth was doing with his mouth and hands was quickly becoming her number one priority. She sighed as his mouth followed the path he'd uncovered beneath her own sweater. _It could wait_, she decided, _how much damage could one lost goblin do?_


	5. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

_In Search of New Dreams_

'Sarah.' A voice called insistently. 'Come on, love, open your eyes.'

She opened them and found Jareth looming above her in the darkness. _He looked like some kind of blonde-haired incubus_, she thought a little wildly before her mind registered that this was her husband and she had nothing to fear.

'Better?' He asked.

She nodded as her heart rate returned to normal. The dream had taken a turn for the worse, for the first time becoming frightening rather than just disturbing. She felt tears welling up in her eyes. Would she ever be free of it or would it eventually consume her?

'This is why you've been roaming in the middle of the night.'

It wasn't a question. It was a statement, and once again, she nodded.

'Why didn't you tell me?'

'I…' she swallowed hard as tears continued to threaten, 'I didn't want to worry you.'

'Independent Sarah.' He said with a sigh, using a finger to wipe a tear off her cheek. 'Always having to do everything herself. When are you going to let me help you? Dreams are a specialty of mine, remember?'

'Not this kind of dream.'

'Let me be the judge of that. What was the dream about?'

Silence.

'Sarah…' he drawled.

Still she remained silent.

Once again he sighed. 'There is a way for me to find out, but I would prefer that you tell me yourself.

'You wouldn't dare.'

He looked down at her, his eyes unreadable in the shadows. However, in the light coming through the window, she saw his mouth tighten, becoming sterner. 'I will do whatever I have to do to help you. If that means grubbing about in your dreams without your consent, I will do so. For obvious reasons, I would prefer that you trust me, but if you won't, I shall do what I have to do and accept the consequences.' He paused as though allowing her to consider his warning carefully. 'Now, Sarah Williams King, what will it be?'

Sarah had little doubt that he would do what he threatened. As he'd told her before, he meant what he said. If he had merely threatened to invade her privacy and had not mentioned the bit about trust, she might have continued to hold out. But the appeal for her trust weakened her resolve, finally persuading her to speak.

'I still don't know what you can possibly do.' She said sullenly. 'Unless you know something about my mother.'

There was a long silence, and Sarah had the impression that he was taking a mental step back as though he suddenly wasn't as interested in the dream as he had been two seconds ago. _Why_, she wondered, her reluctance fading as curiosity took over. Did Jareth know something? The spellmaster had said he's chosen her from her cradle. That meant a mother must have been nearby, right?

'Your mother.' He finally said. 'The dream involves her?'

'Yes.'

'Tell me.'

It was an order, not a request. Nevertheless, Sarah continued to hesitate until he made a low warning growl in his throat. Finally she spoke.

'At first it was nothing more than a feeling I got when I woke up in the middle of the night, just a sense of apprehension or unease. I didn't think much of it and went back to sleep. I figured it was just a matter of getting used to new surroundings. I hadn't been in the castle very long, just a few weeks.'

'It's been going on for _that_ long?' Jareth demanded, clearly annoyed that she'd been able to hide it from him.

'I told you,' she said, 'it was just a feeling, and it didn't happen very often. I didn't even know myself what it meant.' When he didn't answer, she continued. 'About a year ago, it became an actual dream, but like before it was infrequent. It's only been in the last month that it's come more and more often. Now it comes every night.' She frowned as she tried to find the words to explain it to him. 'It's not frightening, not really, not like a nightmare. It's just disturbing because it's so real, so persistent.' Her eyes went to his. 'Jareth, it's haunting me. There's no other word for it.'

'Describe the dream to me. What do you see?'

'I'm a child, no more than Toby's age when you took him, maybe a little older. I'm in a room, in a crib, and it's dark except for a glowing square. I think it must be a window, but I can't see. Around me are toys. There's a miniature merry-go-round on a table, like the one Scrooge gave to Tiny Tim in the movie musical, and a stuffed bear in the crib beside me. It's…' she looked at Jareth, comprehension dawning, 'it's Lancelot. I'm sure it's Lancelot. What do you think that means?'

'It means you're so attached to a teddy bear that it shows up in your dreams.'

'Maybe.' She allowed. 'But I never realized until now that it's Lancelot.'

'So far you've only mentioned teddy bears. Where does your mother come in?'

'There's a woman leaning over me.'

'Your mother?'

She shook her head. 'She's not the woman in the pictures on my vanity. This woman is very beautiful with long, dark hair, and she's wearing some sort of ring on her finger. The jewel is very large. I grab at it, and she laughs. I feel very happy looking at her. But then the noises come, and the woman looks worried. She leaves me, and I start to cry.' Sarah brought her hands up to her ears. 'So many noises, so loud, so frightening. Screaming, yelling, running footsteps, a loud, rhythmic booming like a giant pounding on a door. And I'm crying the whole time but nobody hears me. Then another woman appears, the woman in the pictures, my mother. She picks me up, but I don't want to go with her. She's carrying me through hallways, dark hallways, and I'm crying and struggling. And then I see the beautiful woman again, and I reach out for her, and she reaches out for me, but I'm carried further and further away from her. And that's when I wake up.'

'But not tonight.' Jareth prompted. 'Tonight there was more.'

'Yes.' Sarah said flatly. 'For the first time I saw where I was. It was a castle with white walls, and it was surrounded by a black army. There was a great dragon at the forefront, fire rolling out of its mouth. People were running everywhere, banging into my mother as she carried me. And then the heads came.' She shuddered, putting her hands over her eyes. 'Heads everywhere, falling out of the sky. Oh, God, Jareth, it was terrible. Heads with staring eyes. And it was so real, more like a flashback than a dream.' She looked up at him, her eyes desperate. 'What does it mean? Why won't it leave me alone?'

Jareth gathered him into his arms, pressing her face against his chest, stroking her hair. She held on to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. _He has magical powers_, she told herself. _He could make it stop. Please, Jareth, make it stop. Make it stop!_

She didn't realize that she'd actually spoken until she heard him say, 'I will. I will.'

They sat like that for some time, Jareth up against the headboard of the bed, Sarah pressed against him. Slowly the panic faded, and she was able to speak again.

'That's why I came here.' She told him. 'I came to get answers. I came to ask my father about my mother.'

'And what have you learned?'

She gave a little snort. 'Absolutely nothing. He's too busy fixing the plumbing.'

'Ask him tomorrow.' Jareth said. 'Now, try to get some sleep.'

'I don't know if I can.' She said.

Rather than answer her, he began to sing, and as he sang, her body became heavy, and she felt like she was sinking into goose down pillows. So soft, so comfortable, so peaceful. Her eyelids drooped, and then her breathing became slow and deep.

Jareth stared down at the woman in his arms, frowning. Her dream had disturbed him as much as it had disturbed her but for different reasons. He had hoped this would never happen. There was no good reason for it to happen. What was done was done. One could not go back and change the past, not even him. He could speed time forward by creating an illusion, but he could not change something that had already been. If he could, he would have never lost her in the first place.

He hated what he knew, and what he knew was only part of it. There was a large chunk missing from his knowledge, about an hundred years to be exact, and the spellmaster had refused to speak of it. Anger flared within him as he remembered the spellmaster's role in all of this, how he had hidden the truth, how he'd kept her from him. He'd spent years of anguish, had nearly married that witch because Aldrich had wanted him to and he hadn't had the willpower to defy him…

Sarah murmured in her sleep, and he realized that once again he'd been clutching her too tightly. He forced his arms to relax as he pushed aside his own torment to focus on the matter at hand. Someone or something was intent on dragging the full story out of Sarah's subconscious and making it known to her. To what purpose? What good would it do? It was clear that to stop the dreams he would have to find their source.

His mind rolled over what he knew, piecing it together. There'd been no mention of a mother until they'd found her at the Goblin Gate. She'd been yelling 'Mommy, wait! Don't leave me!' When he'd questioned her about it, she'd said there'd been a green light, a teardrop-shaped crystal, which had turned into a merry-go-round with horses taking her mother away.

At the time he'd assumed it was an illusion sent by Morwenna to draw her from the castle, and perhaps it was, but why an image of her mother? Had Morwenna chosen the vision or had something else chosen it?

He frowned. There'd been tales about the Elfstone Vale and the stone that guarded it, but he assumed it to be myth. If there had been a stone, it had disappeared along with the child. Could the gem he'd given Bob be that stone, and if so, how had Morwenna come in possession of it?

_Tomorrow_, he decided as sleep began overtaking him as well. Tomorrow he'd pay Bob a visit and see exactly what, if anything, that gem was up to.

***SCENE CHANGE***

'Are you sure this is where you want me to drop you?' Sarah asked.

Jareth frowned. He wasn't sure he liked being 'dropped' anywhere, but he'd had all he could take of the tin can on wheels. He'd only allowed her to take him this far so he wouldn't arouse her suspicions.

'This will do fine.' He said, throwing open the door of the car and getting out.

She leaned down to look at him through the window. 'Do you want me to pick you up later?'

'I'll find my own way back.'

She looked as though she wanted to argue about it, but after a glance at her watch, she put the car into gear and drove off, leaving him on the sidewalk outside what the humans called a strip mall. As soon as the car was out of sight, Jareth disappeared and reappeared in a rather seedy part of Soho, London.

He had planned to appear right outside Bob's dreadful little shop, but five blocks out was better than a junk on the Yellow River. In the aboveground he could never be sure how accurate his magic would be. It was annoying as pack of goblins singing 'Pop Goes the Weasel', but what could a Goblin King do? He had to work within his boundaries.

Putting his head down against a light drizzle that made the streets and sidewalks shine wetly in the fading light, he started walking. The neighborhood got seedier and seedier as he walked, but such things didn't bother him. He'd lived on worse streets as a boy, and parts of the Goblin City weren't much better.

He turned down a dank alley, and there, crammed up between a tobacco shop and a tattoo parlor, was The Goblin's Attic. He paused at the door, his eyes going to a poster taped to the window. Iona was giving a concert and tickets were on sale. _So that was what Dreeble called himself_, Jareth mused, pulling open the door and stepping inside. Not very original, but what could one expect from a goblin in drag?

A bell tinkled above him and then he heard a voice calling out irritably, 'I'm a'coming. I'm a'coming. Hold your bloody horses on.'

Bob, dressed in plaid polyester trousers and a sweater that looked as though a swarm of moths had recently dined on it, came around the counter. He stopped short when he saw Jareth, a look of dismay screwing up his already screwed up face.

'My lord,' he said, his beady black eyes shifting from side to side as though looking for an escape hatch,' what brings you here? I dinna think you liked London.'

'I don't.' Jareth said flatly. 'But I didn't come to see the sights. I've come on business.'

'On business, eh?' Bob said. 'Can't think of any business you'd be having with me.'

'Can't you?' Jareth asked, sauntering up to the counter, his boot heels ringing across the scarred wood floor. 'You don't remember a little box I gave you about three years ago?'

Bob tilted his pumpkin-shaped head to one side, screwing up his eyes in thought. He scratched his neck. 'A little box, you say? What was it made out of?'

Jareth's patience was beginning to fray. 'Come now, Boob, you were always one of Aldrich's smarter goblins. That's why he set you up in this shop. Don't tell me you're going senile.'

'My mind's as sharp as it always was.' Bob retorted, bristling. 'I remember the day he brought you to the Goblin Castle. You was no bigger than a goblin, snot-nosed and covered head to toe in soot. Been working as a chimney sweep, you was, and your hair was as gray as mine is now. So don't be telling me that I'm a'going senile.'

Jareth smiled, showing eyeteeth that reminded Bob of another visitor. 'How impressive. With a memory like that you must remember the box I gave you.' The smile disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. 'Get it.'

'What for?'

'Because I want it.'

'Wouldn't you like something else?' The goblin suggested. 'A brass dragon perhaps.' He turned around and grabbed the trinket off the shelf. 'They're straight from Hong Kong. You put a bit of essence here in its belly, and it blows the smoke out the nose.' He gave a little laugh. 'Very amusing, eh?'

Jareth leaned toward the goblin, his expression bland but his voice lethal. 'If you don't get that box post haste, I'll turn you in a brass dragon with fire in your belly and smoke out your nose. Now, that, I would find amusing.'

There was a silence as Bob considered his options. None of them looked particularly good. Either he defied the Goblin King and became a brass dragon or he told him the truth and…well, the Goblin King had never been known for his mercy.

Finally he said somewhat miserably. 'I can't.'

'Why can't you?'

'Because I don't have it.'

'If you don't have it,' Jareth said in a voice that could have frozen the Thames, 'who does?'

'I've been wondering that myself.' Bob admitted, trying a laugh, which quickly died on his lips under the Goblin King's hard gaze. 'I can only think it was the man with the fangs.'

Jareth felt a headache coming on. He'd been getting a lot of headaches lately. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. 'Did you say fangs?'

Bob nodded. 'Yep, fangs.'

'What was he?' Jareth growled. 'A bloody vampire?'

'Could be.' Bob agreed. 'I didn't think of that. I just figured he'd filed them. They used to do that in the early 19th century…'

'Who was he and how did he get the box?' Jareth thundered.

The old goblin cowered back. Even dressed in modern day clothing, the Goblin King was frightening when in a rage. 'I…I don't know who he was.' Bob stammered. 'He said he was an antique dealer looking for old jewelry and did I have any. I said no, but he was welcome to look about. Before I knows it, he was asking to see the box, wanting to buy it.'

'And you sold it to him?'

'No, no, of course not.' Bob hastily assured him. 'You said to keep it safe, and I was a'keeping it safe. I told him it weren't for sale, but he tooks it anyway.'

'How?'

Reluctantly Bob shuffled over to a nearby shelf, removed a dented coffee pot and pulled off the lid. Thrusting his fat fingers inside, he removed the gold ring that had so fascinated him. He held it out to Jareth.

'He gave me this ring, and I put it on. I could never resist shiny stuff, you know.'

Jareth took the ring, casting a scornful eye at it. 'You found this irresistible? I've seen better stuff in the pigs' snorts back home.'

'It was shinier then.' Bob said sullenly. 'So I put it on, and I just sort of froze, couldn't move or nothing. Alls I could see was the ring. I didn't even see him take the box or leave the shop. When I came to, it was well past closing time and the door was unlocked so anybody could've come in and taken that box and I wouldn't have known it. But I figures it's got to be him 'cause the box is gone, but I've still got his ring.'

Jareth examined the ring closely, turning it over in his fingers. It had a plain band with a flat black stone set into it. _Onyx_, he decided, _and a very poor quality onyx at that._ It surprised him that such a ring could have fooled Bob so completely. It had obviously had a spell placed on it. Could it _still_ have a spell on it, causing it to appear less than what it was?

His fingers curled around the ring. He had to get back to the underground as soon as possible. Only there could he test the ring.

'I ought to turn you into a mushroom for this.' He told Bob, his voice icy. 'But I'm working on being a more benevolent dictator these days so I overlook this unfortunate incident, if you'll handle a little matter for me.'

'What?' Bob said eagerly. Anything to avoid becoming eatable fungi.

Jareth walked over to the window, removed the poster with one rip and slapped it down on the counter. 'Find Dreeble and tell him his time is up. If he doesn't report at the Goblin Castle in a fortnight, his million dollars singing voice will be revoked as well as his size 38 bust. Got it?'

'Got it.' Bob said miserably as he watched the Goblin King stalk out of the shop.

He hated rock music about as much as he hated Dreeble.

***SCENE CHANGE***

'I've got good news for you, Mrs. Williams.' Dr. Reed said, smiling at her over his half-rimmed glasses. 'All your tests are normal. There's no reason you can't become a mother in due time.'

Sarah beamed at him. 'That's wonderful.'

'Of course,' he went on, 'a great deal depends on your husband. It takes two to tango, you know.' He chuckled to himself before saying. 'We'll need to test him in order to give you a definite answer. If you stop by the reception desk on your way out, you can make an appointment for him.'

'An appointment?' Sarah echoed. 'For my husband?'

Seeing her stunned expression, the doctor suddenly looked contrite. 'I'm terribly sorry, Mrs….er…Miss Williams, I just assumed that there was a husband. There usually is in these cases. But, I assure you, Reed Fertility Clinic, has a modern view of these things. If you want to make an appointment for your…er…significant other, we'll be happy to test him. We're well aware that there doesn't have to be marriage for there to be a child.'

'But I am married.' Sarah piped in.

Dr. Reed smiled widely. 'Then there's no problem, is there? Just stop by the desk and Debbie will make an appointment for you.'

'I don't think that will be necessary.' Sarah told him. 'I really only wanted to make sure that it wasn't me. You know?'

She could see by his expression that he didn't 'know', but there was no way she was going to enlighten him. I mean how does one tell a doctor that a Goblin King would find such testing…well, let's just say that Jareth would turn them all into chicken before he calmly accepted a vial and disappeared into a restroom with a Playboy magazine. There were just some things that you don't ask a Goblin King to do.

'Well,' Dr. Reed said, rising to his feet and extending a hand, 'if you should change your mind, you have our number.'

Twenty minutes later, she was turning her rented car into her father's driveway. She checked her watch. Thirteen minutes after six. Getting out, she jogged lightly up the steps and through the front door. Toby was sitting at the dining room table, photographs spread all around him.

'Hey, kiddo, where is everybody?'

'Dad's working late, and Mom's at jazzercise.'

'Is Jareth back?'

'Upstairs.' He said, casting a look at the ceiling. 'Can't you hear him? He's been pacing for over an hour. I was told to inform him immediately upon your arrival.'

'Then I'd better get up there.' She started to leave and then stopped, her curiosity getting the best of her. 'What'cha doing?'

He made a face. 'Some stupid school project. We've got to make a family tree.'

Sarah leaned over, picking up a photo. 'That's Aunt Gayle as a little girl, isn't it?'

'Yeah, I guess so.' He said glumly. 'But that's an easy one. Some of these people I don't even know. You'd think someone would have written names on them or something. I mean, look at this one.' He shoved a photo at her. The woman was wearing a shirtwaist with puffed sleeves and a huge hat covered with feathers. '_Who_ is that? Dad doesn't know so how am I supposed to do this project if nobody knows who these people are?'

'Good question.' Sarah said, pushing the photos around on the table. 'Maybe you should call Grandma Williams. She might remember…'

Her fingers had stopped on a dog-eared photo. She frowned, pulling it out and bringing it up to her face so she could look at it more closely. It was a girl of about sixteen or seventeen. She was dressed in a shirtwaist designed like a sailor's smock with wide square collar and knotted tie. Her dark hair was swept upwards beneath a boater hat. But it was her face that had caught Sarah's attention. It was the face in her dream…

'What's wrong?' Toby asked, staring at her.

'I'd better get upstairs.' She said, clutching the picture to her. 'You know how Jareth gets when he has to wait.'

'Sarah…' Toby called.

'Later!' She called back, already halfway up the stairs.

Jareth was in mid-stride when she burst through the door of her bedroom. He looked about ready to explode from impatience, his fingers clenching and unclenching as though on an imaginary crop, but she was too excited to take heed.

'Jareth,' she said breathlessly, 'you'll never guess what I've found. It's the…'

'Where have you been?' He demanded, cutting across her words like a guillotine whacking off heads. 'I've been waiting hours!'

'I had a few errands to run.'

'To where? Africa?'

Sarah bristled. 'That's my business.'

'Sarah…' he growled.

'If you'd like to tell me where you were this morning, I'll be happy to return the favor.'

Jareth abruptly turned away and nearly fell over the chair to the vanity. It looked like something a child would sit in. 'When are you doing to get some adult furniture in this room?' He said irritably before stalking over to the window. He stared out moodily for a long moment and then said. 'Go say goodbye to Toby. We're leaving.'

'Leaving?' Sarah repeated, somewhat blankly. 'Leaving for where?'

'For home.'

'But I'm not ready to go home yet.' She protested. 'I haven't talk to my father, and there's still that little matter to take care of in Chicago, remember?'

'It can wait.'

'That's easy for you to say.' She retorted. 'You're not the one being haunted by a dream.'

'What haunts you haunts me.'

'Then meet the ghost.' She held the photo out to him.

He took it and his expression suddenly became blank. It was like someone had taken an eraser and wiped it clean. 'Is this supposed to mean something to me?'

'It's her.' Sarah said. 'The woman in my dream.'

'Your mother?'

'No, not my mother. The other one. The beautiful one with the ring.'

There was a brief silence and then he demanded. 'Where'd you get this?'

'It came out of a box of old family photos. Toby's downstairs working on a project for school, and he had photos all over the table, and I happened to see it.' When he continued to stare at her in that shuttered sort of way, she exclaimed. 'Don't you understand? The woman in my dreams is a relative, part of my family. That makes more sense, doesn't it? At least now I know I'm not being haunted by a complete stranger.'

'I fail to see how being haunted by a relative is any better than a stranger. You don't know this girl, do you?'

Sarah frowned. 'No.'

'Then for all intents and purposes, she's a stranger.' He concluded. 'Now, go say goodbye to Toby. If you wait any longer, your father will be home, and we won't be able to get out of here for another hour.'

Once again, Sarah bristled at his commanding tone. She wasn't some goblin he could order about.

'Why this big hurry to get back?' She asked. 'Have the goblins set the castle on fire or something?'

'No.'

The answer was curt and final. He didn't intend to explain himself.

'You go back.' She told him in a voice that equaled his in abruptness. 'I'm staying.'

They stared at each other over the distance of the room, their eyes locked in silent battle. Once again, their wills, both so strong, were waging war, and neither had arrived at the point of concession. It would take longer than that. Rarely, if ever, did their disagreements mend themselves so quickly.

'Very well.' Jareth finally said, his voice cold. 'Stay. If you want me, you know where to find me. And, I assure you, my _queen_, it won't be on your doorstep.'

And with that he disappeared.

Sarah stared at the space where he'd stood for a moment or two and then rushed over to the window just in time to see the outline of an owl disappear over the horizon.

_Mule-headed…aggravating…GOBLIN KING!_

Grabbing a hold of the sash with both hands, she slammed the window shut…and locked it.


	6. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

_Twilight Zone_

'Rum-Blotch! Rum-Blotch!' Jareth thundered. 'Where the bog are you, you miserable slug.'

Sir Didymus poked his furry head around the corner of throne room door. 'I believe you'll find that particular squire at the jousting tournament, my liege. It's being held in yonder ward.'

'Jousting tournament!' Jareth snapped. 'When did we start holding jousting tournaments?'

'It's our first.' Didymus told him with some pride. 'I arranged it.'

'You arranged it?' Jareth felt as if his head would explode. The interference of Sarah's friends in _his_ kingdom was intolerable. 'Let me get this straight. You gave long, sharp poles to a pack of goblins and then told them to ride toward each other? Is it just me or does that sound like a recipe for disaster?'

For the first time, Didymus didn't look quite so sure of himself. 'Ah…yes…perhaps I ought to…er…go down and see how things are going.'

'Do that.' Jareth ordered. 'And while you're at it, tell Higgle to get his bum in here.'

'Hoggle, my liege?'

'Yes, Higgle. You know, short, mouthy with the big nose, which he constantly pokes into other people's business.' This last bit was practically spit out.

'He's not here.'

Jareth struggled to control his temper. 'What is this? Does everyone desert their post as soon as my back is turned? The discipline in this castle is appalling. I've a mind to turn all of your into fur hats for a fortnight.'

Sir Didymus shuddered. Being a fox, he naturally loathed anything made of fur. 'Hoggle has returned to the Dark Wood to resume his duties as governor.'

Jareth glared at the fox. 'Then I'll just have to retrieve him, won't I?'

Producing a crystal, he threw it. The crystal crashed to the ground, shattering, and in its place stood Hoggle, wrapped in a towel and holding a scrub brush.

'Ain't a chap got any privacy around here?' He demanded.

Without a word, Jareth stepped off the raised dais that held his throne and walked over to Hoggle. He circled the furious, little dwarf with an amused expression. 'Why, Hoggle, I didn't know you took baths. I thought you were as committed to filth as the goblins.'

'I am.'

'Then why are you dripping soap suds all over my floor?'

Hoggle looked uncomfortable, but he raised his chin and said. 'If you must know, I've got a date.'

'A date?' Jareth repeated, folding his arms in an attitude of contemplation. 'How amusing. I didn't know scabs like you could get dates. Anyone I know?'

'Ain't none of your business.'

'Oh, but I disagree.' Jareth murmured, tapping one long finger against his cheek. 'When the time comes and you want to marry, you must petition the king, and I shall certainly want to know who the happy bride is. After all, I can't let everyone go off marrying willy-nilly. It makes for a very disorderly kingdom, you know.'

'Who said anything about marriage?' Hoggle exclaimed. 'It's just a few pints in the pub.'

'In that case, you won't mind canceling it.' Jareth said, tiring of the game he was playing. He turned and stalked back to his throne. 'I've got a job for you.'

'I'm off duty.'

Ignoring him, Jareth continued. 'Take a regiment of goblins and go find that bloody cat.'

'What in the bog for?' Hoggle groused. 'Good riddance, if you ask me.'

'Because I want it.'

'If you want it so badly, then why can't you use your magic and bring it here like you did me?'

'Because I shall be busy.'

'So will I.'

Jareth studied the dwarf with narrowed eyes. Hogwart's truculence had reached new levels, but he didn't have time to deal with that now. He needed the little scab to retrieve the cat while he worked on decoding the ring. Unfortunately, Hogwart and the fox were the only subjects in his kingdom that he could count on to do the job right. It galled him to admit it, but the scab was too valuable to send to the bog…at least right now.

He dropped into the throne as though defeated. 'You win, Higgle. Go!' He said, waving a hand, 'Go enjoy your piece of fluff and your pint of beer. I'll just tell the queen that you aren't interested in helping her.'

'The queen?' Hoggle echoed, frowning. 'What's Sarah got to do with this?'

'Everything.' Jareth sighed, slinging one leg over the arm of the throne. 'But you're too busy. I'm sure she'll understand.' He sent a glance at Sir Didymus who'd been hovering in the background all this time. 'Escort Higgle out, will you, Deadmouse? There's a good chap.'

'Now, wait just a minute!' Hoggle growled as Didymus tried to take his arm. 'You didn't say nothing about this being about Sarah when you brought me here. If you had, then maybe I wouldn't have been so…'

'Truculent?' Jareth suggested.

Hoggle scowled at him. 'You realize that looking for this blasted cat will be like looking for a needle in a haystack.'

'You have my permission to take as many goblins as you like.' He shot a glance at Sir Didymus. 'If they're not all shish-kebobs by now.'

'Alright.' Hoggle said. 'I'll do it. But I'm doing it for Sarah, not you.'

'You're loyalty to your king is heart-warming.'

'Would you put me back in my bath now? I can't very well go looking for c at like this.'

'Gladly. The sight of you in a towel is frightening.' Jareth lifted his hand and then stopped, a wicked grin teasing the corners of his mouth. 'Oh, and Higgle?'

'Yeah?'

'My offer still stands. If she kisses you, I'll turn you into a prince.'

Jareth's laughter was still ringing in Hoggle's ears as he made a splash landing in his tub of sudsy water. _Rat!_

***SCENE CHANGE***

'It's a shame Jareth had to leave so quickly.' David Williams said as he and Sarah sat watching TV in the family room. Toby was slouched in a nearby chair, memorizing his lines, and Nancy was upstairs in the bath.  
'You know how doctors are.' Sarah said. 'Always on call.'

Her father frowned. 'I thought he worked at the university.'

'He does.' Sarah said hastily. 'But he, uh, heads up the crisis counseling center, and they, uh, were understaffed due to a outbreak of, uh, measles.'

'Huh.' Dave said. 'I thought measles had been virtually stamped out in the United States.'

'It's made a comeback. All that fuss over vaccination, I suspect.'

Her father nodded as though in perfect agreement and then laughed at something on the TV. She shot a glance at Toby who mouthed 'ask him' before burying his face in the script.

'Uh, Dad?'

'Yeah.'

'I was wondering if we could talk.'

'Sure. What about, hon?'

'Mom.'

There was no outward change in her father. He continued sitting on the couch, the remote control clutched in one hand, a slight smile on his face as he stared at the television screen, but she sensed something. A slight tightening on his muscles maybe. Her observation was confirmed when he suddenly stood up.

'Let me get the trash first, and then we'll talk. Ok?'

Toby sprang out of the chair like a jack-in-the- box. 'Hey, I'll get it. You guys talk.'

Dave had nothing else to do but to drop back into his seat. He sat for a moment or two, as though considering his options, before turning and giving his daughter a tentative smile. He had obviously decided that running would look too obvious.

'So what brought this on?' He asked. 'You never wanted to talk about your mom before.'

'Toby's working on a project for school. He's building our family tree, and I started looking through the pictures with him, and I just sort of wondered why there's none of mom. The only ones I've ever seen are the ones I used to keep on my vanity. And, of course, the clippings I collected over the years.'

'You collected quite a few, didn't you?' He asked with a little laugh. 'You filled a whole scrapbook.'

'I was interested in her. I still am. Won't you tell me about her?'

He looked uncomfortable, very uncomfortable. 'I'd love to, hon, but the truth is, Linda isn't your mother.'

She stared at him. 'Of course, Linda Williams is my mother.'

He shook his head. 'You assumed her was, and I, well, I let you assume it because I didn't see any harm in it. Of course, I never thought you'd become so obsessed with her that you'd filled a scrapbook with newspaper clippings and playbills and all that.'

'If Linda Williams isn't my mother, then who is she?'

'She's my cousin, your Great Uncle Ken's daughter.'

'But she visited.' Sarah said. 'She sent me gifts. She wrote to me at times.'

'It's not unusual for aunts or cousins to take the place of missing mothers. Linda liked you, and I guess she felt sorry for you because you didn't have a mother. I never intended for you to take it as far as you did. Hell, I think you were ten or eleven before I realized what had happened. You always did have an active imagination, and I guess you built up a fantasy life for yourself. I know I should have set your straight, but I've never liked confronting things and letting you believe Linda was your mother was easier than explaining where your real mother was.'

'Where was she?'

'I had no idea.'

Sarah took a deep breath. Sometimes her father's vagueness could be extremely annoying. 'Ok, let's start at the beginning. What was her name?'

'Deidra.'

'What did she look like?'

He thought for a moment. 'Actually, she looked a great deal like Linda. Dark hair, green eyes, pretty but not beautiful. I remember thinking at the time that they could be twins.'

'And how did you meet?'

'In a Laundromat. She was having trouble operating the washer. I showed her where to put the coins, and then I noticed she'd put all the clothes into one washer so I showed her how to sort and separate.'

'Sounds like a ding bat.' Sarah muttered.

'Nah, she'd just never done laundry before.'

Sarah stared at him. 'You're kidding. Where'd she come from? Beverly Hills?'

Her father shrugged. 'Believe it or not, Sarah, there are people in this world, even ones without maids, that don't have a clue how to take care of themselves. Can't even boil an egg.'

'And you fell in love with this woman?'

Once again he shrugged. 'I have a weakness for helpless women. Brings out my protective side. I suppose your fiancé would say I've got some sort of complex, but that's just the way I am. I'm a sucker for the damsel in distress.'

Sarah thought of her stepmom and wondered what had happened. Nancy was not at all prone to distress. 'So what happened after that?'

'I asked her to go for a coffee after the tumble dry, and she said yes. We continued running into each other at the Laundromat, and eventually I asked her out on a real date, and the rest is history.'

'And then I came along.'

Suddenly her father looked uncomfortable again. He fidgeted with the remote, and then he stood up. 'Boy, it's taking Toby a long time with the trash. I'd better go check on him. Hey, remember when he was a kid and was afraid of the dark and would just throw the trash into the bin from the back door?'

'Dad!' Sarah protested.

'What?'

'You can't just drop a bombshell in my lap and then run off. There's something you're not telling me.'

He stared at her and then dropped back down onto the sofa with a heavy sigh. 'You're right. If I've told this much, I'd better tell you the whole story.'

'Tell me.' Sarah demanded, her heart pounding. He looked as though he was ready to deliver another bombshell. And he did.

'Sarah,' Dave said, looking miserable. 'I'm…I'm not your father.'

She wouldn't have been more stunned if he'd smacked her with a 2x4. She had barely recovered from the news that Linda Williams was not her mother, and now _he_ wasn't her father? Has she stepped into the twilight zone or something?

'I…I don't understand. If you're not my father, then who are you?'

'Deidra had a two year old daughter when I met her. You. You were with her at the Laundromat that day. Two damsels in distress, and I guess I fell hard for both of you. Shortly after we married, I adopted you, and as far as I'm concerned, you're as much my daughter as Toby's my son, but biologically speaking, I'm not your dad.'

'Then who is?'

'I don't know. Deidra never talked about your life before I met her, and I didn't push her. I figured it must hold some pretty painful memories for her.'

'Weren't you curious?'

'Sure, but it really didn't matter to me. I don't dwell on the past, Sarah. I never have. If I did, I would have never forgiven your mother for leaving us.'

'You're telling me that my mother left and didn't take me with her? She left me with a man who wasn't even my biological father? And you kept me?'

'I told you, honey, I'm a sucker for damsels in distress, and you were certainly that. A little four year old with big green eyes and black hair and a ratty teddy bear that you wouldn't let go of. You know, I bought you this new bear, it was gorgeous, but you wouldn't touch it. You insisted on keeping Lancelot.' He chuckled at the memory and then sobered. 'But, like I said, Sarah, as far as I was concerned, you were mine, my daughter. And you still are. This discussion doesn't change that.'

'So it was just you and me for nearly ten years.'

He nodded. 'I couldn't have asked for a better daughter. I used to say you were a gift from the elves. I called you my elf child, and as time went on, I began to think that maybe you were since you couldn't get enough of faeries and princesses and palaces by the sea. You loved _Grimm's Fairy Tales_ and the _Wizard of Oz_ and then that book your mother left behind. What was it?' He thought for a moment and then snapped his fingers. '_Labyrinth._ You spent hours memorizing it. Nancy used to get so irritated with that book. She said it was a bad influence, that you ought to be going on dates instead of sticking your nose in a book.'

'It belonged to my mom?' Sarah asked, stunned. 'I always just thought someone picked it up at a yard sale or something.'

'It was one of the few things she had with her when she moved in. I always thought how odd it was that she had so little.' He was quiet for a moment as though remembering his surprise and then smiled. 'But, anyway, I told Nancy you'd grow out of it, and you did. You've got a great job at the university, and now you're marrying a doctor.'

_If only he knew_, Sarah mused. His elf child had never left that world of fantasy. In fact, she was Queen of the Goblins.

'Did you ever hear from my mom again?'

'Never.'

'Do you know where she went?'

'She never seemed to fit in here so I just assumed she went back to wherever it was she came from.'

'You don't know?'

Dave shook his head. 'I'm sorry, Sarah, I know you have questions, and I wish I could answer them, but I can't. Like I said, she never spoke of her previous life, and I didn't push her.' When Sarah opened her mouth to ask the obvious question, he was one step ahead of her. 'And, yes, I did try once, and she got so upset, so agitated that I never asked again.'

They sat for a few minutes in silence, Sarah mulling over the things he'd told her and him remembering the woman he'd been married to so briefly. The TV hummed in the background, forgotten.

Finally he glanced over at her. 'I know this has been a shock for you. Are you ok?'

'I will be. Eventually.'

'Is there anything else you want to know?'

Sarah dug the photo out of her back pocket. 'Do you know who this is?'

He took the photo, glancing at it. 'Should I?'

'It came out of the box of photos on the top shelf of the closet. I was just curious. She's very beautiful.'

'Hmm, a real knockout.' He agreed before handing the photo back to her. 'Why don't ask Grandma Williams? She has a head for such things. Now,' He said, standing up. 'I'd better go check on that kid brother of yours.' He started to walk past her and then stopped. 'Sarah?'

She looked up. 'Yeah?'

'I meant what I said. You're my daughter, and our discussion tonight doesn't change that. I love you, elf child.'

'I love you too, Dad.'

She watched him leave the room, and then her eyes fell back to the face in the photo. _Who are you_, she wondered, _and what are you doing in my dreams?_ And who was Deidra and where had she come from? And what kind of mother took off and left her child with a man not even related to her by blood? The questions swirled around and around, making her dizzy.

To find out that the parents she'd thought her parents weren't was mind-numbing, and she didn't quite know what to make of it. It left her feeling anchorless, like a ship cut adrift on the sea, and she suddenly longed for Jareth. He had his faults, but he was like the castle he lived in, solid and immovable, never changing. _Except when he became an owl_, she reminded herself with a sad, little smile.

And they had even more in common now. For all intents and purpose she was just as much an orphan as he was. _And how do you feel about that_, she asked herself. _Numb_, _and very, very confused_.

She got up and walked over to the window. The moon beckoned, and the stars reminded. She really ought to go home. She had talked with her father, and although it had been enlightening, it had created more questions than answers. What more could be done here? She glanced down at the photo in her hand. Well, perhaps one more thing…and then she'd go home.

Turning away from the window, she headed for her bedroom, wondering what Jareth was doing and whether or not he was feeling as lonely as she was.

***SCENE CHANGE***

Jareth leaned over the crucible. The process was abominably slow, and he was beginning to get impatient. He'd never liked Aldrich's work room. It reminded him of a rat hole. Set deep within the bowels of the castle, its walls dripped with moisture, and no matter what the temperature above, a pervasive chill persisted like a squatter refusing to depart. Fortunately, he hadn't had to visit the room too often. He preferred illusion to spell casting. This time, however, he had had no choice. The ring had to be purified.

He stalked across the room, removed a book from the shelf and then threw himself down in a chair to wait. But his mind couldn't concentrate on the spells written within. It kept wandering, bouncing from Hoggle to Sarah to Bob and back again. Finally it came to rest on Sarah, and he frowned, lifting one hand to rub his forehead. By the bog he missed her. That terrible loneliness always crept back in whenever she was away.

And he'd made a right mess of things again. Here he'd just smoothed over their last disagreement and already they were into another one and once again it was his fault. His fingers curled into a fist, which he slammed against the arm of the chair. Why did he always have to be so…domineering? So…as she had put it on more than one occasion…bossy? Of course, it didn't help that she was so independent.

The crucible began to smoke, and he jumped up, reaching the table in two long strides. The ring was glowing. As he watched it went from deep red to a bright orangey gold. He cut the flame beneath the bowl of the vessel and waited for the ring to cool. Then he removed it.

Holding the circle between thumb and forefinger, he examined it carefully. The gold was shiny once again, and the black stone was indeed an onyx, but it was the fanciful 'R' carved into the gem that sent white hot anger pouring through Jareth's frame. How had _he _become involved in this? Was it Morwenna's doing or had he been bidding his time, waiting in the bushes like the snake he was?

Anger turned to loathing as Jareth stared at the ring. It was because of this…_this snake_ and his treachery that the Beloved had disappeared, setting off a century long mourning. He had betrayed his master, the Elf King, and had taken the kingdom for himself. To Jareth's way of thinking, there wasn't anything more detestable, and if it hadn't been for Sarah and the fact that the goblin had redeemed herself by returning his gloves, Tipper would have suffered much more severely for her role in his own betrayal three years prior.

His fingers tightened on the ring. The cheek of the man. Leaving him a calling card. Ronan Dragonheart had wanted him to know who was in possession of the stone Morwenna once wore, the stone Jareth now believed to be a piece of the legendary Elfstone. Why?

The question tore through Jareth's soul like a dagger. He had no choice now. He would have to tell Sarah the truth and accept the consequences. It would be far better for her to learn the truth from him than someone else. Knowing the truth would remove any power Ronan had because he held the stone. There was little time to lose. He'd have to leave for the spellmaster's immediately…and hope the old deceiver was still alive.

***SCENE CHANGE***

'Do we really have to do this?' Toby asked as he and Sarah pulled up in front of an office building.

'You want an A on your project, don't you?' Sarah asked, throwing open the door and getting out.

Toby shrugged. 'What do I care? Jareth says I don't need schooling to be Goblin King.'

'That's a terrible attitude.' Sarah said, opening the back door and removing the box of photos and notes they'd collected during a long phone call to Grandma Williams. 'I shall have to talk to Jareth about putting such ideas in your head. And, you know, it's not guaranteed that you'll be Goblin King. We could have a child.'

'That's ok.' Toby said, following her into the building. 'I'll just become an actor instead. They never finish college.'

'Don't tell me that Jareth told you that too.'

'Nope. I figured it out myself. I mean have you ever listened to any of them?'

'Not really.' Sarah said, pushing the elevator button. The doors slid open and they got inside. 'We don't get TV and movies in the underground.'

'Who is this guy anyway?' Toby asked as the elevator hummed upwards.

'His name is Ronald Drummond. He's a genealogist. I saw his ad in the newspaper and called for an appointment. I'm surprised I could get in so quickly.'

'Not much interest in dead guys, huh.'

'I guess not.'

'So why are you interested in them?'

'I told you. That woman in the sailor suit is in my dream. I want to know who she is, and after two hours on the phone, it's clear that Grandma Williams doesn't have a clue. So we call in the professional.'

'Can't Jareth just do some hocus-pocus over the photo and find out who she is?'

'I don't think his magic works that way.'

'Bummer.'

Sarah pushed open the door marked 'Ronald Drummond, Genealogist' and went inside. There was no one at the reception desk so they sat down. Toby immediately pulled out his script and began mumbling to himself while Sarah surveyed their surroundings.

The office was richly furnished with overstuffed leather chairs and an oriental rug over shiny hardwood. _There must be more interest in dead guys than we thought_, Sarah decided, noting that the lamps on the tables were made of Tiffany glass. She had just finished studying the framed print of an enormous oak, which she assumed was a subtle reference to a family tree, when her eyes fell on a white ceramic cat sitting on the ledge outside the reception window.

It drew her like a magnet and she found herself getting up and going over to it. It was so life-like that it gave her a little chill. Her fingers at just touched its smooth head when the window suddenly shot open and a man with dark brows and dark hair stared out at her. She jumped, nearly knocking the cat off the counter.

'I see you like my cat.' The man said, flashing a smile.

'Uh, yes…' Sarah said, her eyes on the man's teeth. They were pointy like a piranha's. 'It's very interesting, very life-like. It reminds me of a cat I used to know.

'Me too.' He said. 'That's why I take it wherever I go. I call it my mascot.' He glanced down at a scheduling book. 'You must be Sarah King.'

'Yes, I'm Sarah.'

'Ronald Drummond.' He said. 'Let me just slip around this desk and I'll let you in. I do apologize, Miss King, but my receptionist had a leave early. Something to do with an abscessed tooth.'

'Actually, it's Mrs. King.' She told him as she and Toby followed him down a hallway.

He glanced back at her. 'And is this your son?'

'My brother. Toby.'

'Please have a seat.' Ronald said, leading them into an office and motioning toward two chairs in front of a large black desk. 'Coffee? Water?'

'No, thanks.'

He dropped into the black leather chair behind the desk. 'Well, then, tell me what can I do for you? I'm assuming you need help with a bit of family detective work.'

'My brother is doing a project for school. He's supposed to construct a family tree.'

'I'm afraid I don't do homework projects, Mrs. King. I believe it letting a child do his own work. How else will he learn?'

'Oh, we don't want you to do the project for him.' Sarah hastily assured him. 'I only mentioned the project so you'd understand how we found the picture.'

'What picture?'

Sarah flipped open the folder on her lap, removed the picture and pushed it across the desk to him. It was then that she saw the stone. It sat on a display stand, glowing a deep apple green. _And it was glowing_, she decided, casting a quick glance upwards. No fluorescent could produce that inner warmth that seemed to pulse and vibrate. She frowned as a feeling of déjà vu teased her.

'I can see why you want to find out who she is.' Ronald Drummond was saying. 'She's very beautiful. Of course, black and white doesn't do her justice. Do you know anything about her?'

'Uh, no, I'm afraid not.' Sarah said, forcing her eyes away from the stone. 'But we've collected quite a bit of information from our grandmother that might help. I'm sure she must be related to one of these people.'

'Perhaps.' Drummond allowed. 'But sometimes pictures of friends and acquaintances end up in family photo collections.'

'Does that mean you won't be able to find out who she is?'

He leaned back in his chair and stared at her over steepled fingers. 'A genealogist is very much like a detective, Mrs. King. The only difference is the people I find are dead.'

'Sounds thrilling.' Toby muttered.

'You'd be surprised how much a dead person can tell you.'

'Yeah, I hear zombies get pretty chatty. Especially after midnight.'

Toby winced as Sarah's toe connected with his ankle.

'So you think you can find her?' Sarah persisted.

He smiled that pointy smile again. 'Of course. I feel as though I already know her. Give me a week and I'll have an answer for you.'

Sarah's face fell. 'A week?'

'Is there a problem?'

'Well, I had hoped to go home. You see, I'm just visiting.'

He spread his hands. 'Well, these things do take time…'

'Yes, of course.' She nodded. 'It's just that my husband will be getting impatient. He went home a couple days ago.'

'Domineering type, is he?'

'No,' Sarah said with a shake of her head, 'just impatient. It's a by-product of his profession.'

'Well, if it'll make married life any easier for you,' Drummond said, 'I'll see what I can do in a couple days.'

Sarah smiled. 'I would appreciate it, Mr. Drummond.'

'Please call me Ron. I hate formalities.'

'Very well. Ron.' Sarah said, standing up. 'If there's anything else you need, give me a call. I've written the number on the folder.'

As she held out the folder to him, her eyes once again fell on the stone.

'Ah, I see you've noticed the stone.' Ronald said, picking it up and rolling it in his fingers.

'It's very interesting.'

'I have a lot of interesting things. I'm a collector of strange and unusual things. I found this beauty in a funny little shop in Soho, London called the Goblin's Attic. It's called an Elfstone. I find it very calming, sort of like a worry bead. Would you like to hold it?'

Without realizing it, she held out her hand. As soon as she felt the warm, smooth surface of the gem against her palm, a feeling like one gets when coming home from a long journey swept over her. She swayed under the force of it and put out her other hand to steady herself against the desk. Opening her hand, she was surprised to see the stone glowing even brighter than before.

'It must like you.' Drummond murmured.

Sarah looked up at him and was suddenly lost in the black depths of his eyes.

'Rocks don't like people.' It was Toby's voice, loud and clear, and he was taking the stone from her and slamming it down on the desk. 'Come on, Sarah, it's time to go. I've got play practice in an hour.'

'You'll make a great Goblin King.' She said when they were once again in the rented car, driving toward the high school. 'You're got the rudeness down pat.'

'The guy was weird.' Toby declared, unrepentant. 'Did you see those teeth? Creepy.'

'Maybe he didn't have proper dental care as a kid.'

'Ever heard of reconstruction dentistry?' Before Sarah could comment, he went on. 'And what was all that crap about the rock liking you? We're not talking Tribbles here. We're talking rocks. They have to be alive to like someone.'

'I think…it was.' Sarah said, her voice sounding distant.

Toby glanced over at her. She had a faraway look on her face that he didn't like. What had that guy done? Put a spell on her?

'Rocks aren't alive.' He declared once again. 'He was just trying to make time with you.'

'He was not trying to 'make time' with me.' Sarah said, clearly annoyed. 'I'm married.'

'I don't think that matters to guys like him.'

'Well, it matters to me.' She retorted. 'I hired him to find a woman in a picture. That's all. In a couple days, he'll call, and that will be the end of it.'

'Uh-huh.'

Sarah would have demanded what 'uh-huh' meant, but she was turning into the school parking lot, and Toby looked eager to depart, one hand on the door handle, the other gripping his book bag. As soon as the car stopped, he was out. The slam he gave the door was a sure sign that he had not forgotten their conversation any more than she had.

_He's been around Jareth far too long_, she thought, putting the car back in gear. He was getting rude, mouthy and suspicious. Of course, that could just be the result of being a teenager, but she doubted it. All this nonsense about Mr. Drummond trying to 'make time' with her. It was ridiculous. The man was just being polite. Despite what he'd said, she probably wouldn't hear from him for several days.

_It was all hogwash_, she thought, leaving the parking lot, _absolute hogwash._

But it wasn't hogwash as she found out the very next day.

'Sarah!' Nancy called from the kitchen. 'Telephone!'

Sarah got up from the dining room table where she'd been helping Toby with his project. He gave her a 'look', which she ignored. Going into the living room, she picked up the receiver. 'Hello?'

'Sarah, Ron Drummond here. I've got good news for you. I've found her.'

'Already?'

'I gave it my full attention, seeing as how you were so eager to get home.'

'That's very kind of you. Shall I come to your office tomorrow for the details?'

'I have a better idea.'

'What?'

'How about meeting me for dinner tomorrow tonight?'

'Dinner?' Sarah echoed. She hadn't been expecting that.

'Yes,' he confirmed, 'there's an excellent little bistro just down the street from my office called The Stone Jar. I often take my clients there. I find that a casual setting is so much more conducive to discussing skeletons in the closet.'

'I hope we don't have any of those.' She said with a nervous little laugh.

'Most families do.' He told her. 'If you know where to look. So what do you say? Shall we meet at seven o'clock?'

She wanted to say no. She knew she ought to say no, but to her surprise she heard herself saying. 'Yes, that will be fine. Seven o'clock at The Stone Jar. I'll be there.'


	7. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

_As the Pain Sweeps Through_

The great white owl rode on the wind currents. They were strong in the mountains, sometimes taking him by surprise. He scanned the landscape below him, his sharp eyes picking out details that in his human form he wouldn't have been able to see. Something scurried beneath a boulder, taking cover as his shadow passed over, but he ignored it as he always did. Goblin Kings didn't eat rodents.

In the distance the spellmaster's mountain came into view, its narrow peak ringed by a layer of mist. He soared toward it, wheeling and swooping as he gradually lost altitude, diving through the mist until he was just above the encircling balcony. Dropping lightly onto the railing, he turned into his human form and then stood listening.

There was no sound except for the whine of the wind through the chasm. The place seemed deserted, like a ghost town, and his heart sank. Here was the one piece of information, except for how Morwenna came to be in possession of Meara's stone, that he didn't know. He had come before, but the spellmaster had refused to answer. Would he do so now? Was he even still capable of doing so?

Striding forward he took hold of the curtain and threw it back. Light poured into the cave, illuminating its dark recesses. Jareth took a step inside and then another and another until he was standing in the middle of the room, staring down at a table. He slid one gloved finger across the surface. It left a visible streak. The room hadn't been used for some time.

_Damn!_

'He said you would come.'

He whirled around. A woman stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the light. She was dressed in a long, flowing robe. It reached the tops of her bare feet, spilling over them onto the stone floor like a puddle. Her hair was dark and fell like a rope to her waist. He could not see her face, but he did see her right ear in the light pouring past her. It was pointed. She was an elf.

'Where is he?' He demanded.

'He's gone.'

'Where?'

'To where all spellmaster go eventually.'

Jareth's worse fear had been confirmed. 'He's dead.'

'He lives within the mountain.'

He felt like throwing the table against the room. How dare the old deceiver die without revealing what he knew? His hands clenched and unclenched as he struggled to contain the anger that had boiled within him. It had churned nonstop ever since he'd become aware of the spellmaster's role in the Beloved disappearance. Unable to withstand the force of his emotion, he dropped to his knees, doubling over as remembered pain and anguish swept through him like a tidal wave.

'You are Jareth, are you not?'

He'd forgotten about her.

'Yes,' he said between clenched teeth, 'I'm Jareth, King of the Goblins.'

'I have been given permission to tell you what you want to know.'

He raised his head and glared at her with narrowed eyes. 'Who the bog are you? And what do you know about it?'

'I am Deidra, and I know everything. I was there. I was Queen Meara's handmaiden. I took the child.'

'_You_ took the child?'

She made a graceful incline of her head. 'I took the child before the usurper could discover her whereabouts and take her for himself.'

'Who gave you permission to do so?'

'The child's mother. We had seen his ambition. We had discerned his intentions. But Ciarán would not believe it of his trusted captain so we agreed that I should take the child if what we suspected ever happened. Once Ciarán gave her to you, the die was cast.'

'Yes,' Jareth rasped, getting to his feet, 'she was mine. He gave her to me.'

'Your prior claim would make no difference to the dark one. He could take his master's kingdom by force, but he could not keep it as long as the elf child lived. He would either have to kill her or marry her himself. Meara and I knew this and that is why I took the child on the night he made his move.'

Jareth struggled to control his temper. How dare these two women interfere? Yet he could not deny their logic, their intent. He knew enough about Ronan to know that he would have done exactly that ~ kill the child or marry her himself. Still the pain persisted.

'I understand your reasons for taking her,' he allowed, 'but why hide her? Why allow me to believe her lost?'

There was a heavy silence and then Deidra said. 'There were unexpected complications.'

'What?'

The word was like a gunshot, hard and abrupt. Deidra looked at him, noting the intense emotion, the anguish that still lingered even after all these years, even after he had finally recovered his promised bride. She sighed. She had warned the spellmaster that hiding the child from him would cause unnecessary pain, but the spellmaster was adamant. The child must be protected above all things. In due time, the Goblin King would find his bride again.

'When I took the child, I brought her here to the mountains. I knew the mountains would protect her. I knew the spellmaster's power would shield her whereabouts from those sought her. We originally meant only to hide her until she was old enough to marry, but…'

'But what?'

Once again, his voice came hard and abrupt.

'But the child did not grow older.' Deidra said sadly. 'We kept waiting for her to grow, but she remained one year old in body and mind. As such she could not fulfill her destiny. The Goblin King could not marry a baby. The spellmaster concluded that a spell had been placed on her but try as he might he could not removed it so we continued to hide her. Then one hundred years to the date of her father's betrayal, she finally began to grow.'

'And you _still_ hid her from me?'

Deidra's soft heart melted at the raw anguish in his voice, and she hurried to reassure him. 'We hid her from everyone. Not just you. We had to preserve the Elfstone line.'

'But I _loved_ her. She was _mine_.' His voice was husky with suppressed emotion. 'I would have defended her with my _life_.'

'You were not yet the Goblin King, and you had gone against Aldrich's expressed wishes and betrothed yourself. How could you have protected her against the usurper without Aldrich's support? Jareth,' she pleaded, 'had there been any other way, we would have chosen it. We saw your anguish. We saw how you mourned. But the spellmaster's one purpose was to preserve the Elfstone line. Without it there would be no peace in the underground, and peace was his dearest desire. He had to obey the stars.'

Jareth turned away from her and stalked over to the crater that had once served as a hearth. He stared at it, fighting back his emotion. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet, almost weary.

'And after she began to grow? What did you do?'

'When she was two years old, it was decided that I should take her to the aboveground. I would have taken her there sooner, but it would have looked odd to the humans if the baby remained a baby. I took her to the aboveground and gave her to Meara's people. I…' she faltered and then continued, 'I loved the man as deeply as my kind can love a human, but I could not stay. I had to return to the world to which I belonged. All of us born in the underground must eventually return to it. The stars draw us back. The man loved the child as his own, and she loved him as her father. Yet her heart longed for the underground, and when the time was right, she returned.'

'She returned because _I _went and got her.' Jareth retorted. 'If it hadn't been for that rumor…'

'That rumor originated here. The spellmaster whispered it into the wind, and the wind took it from there.' Deidra told him. 'He said the time was right.'

'The time was right, was it?' Jareth snapped. 'If the time was right, why did she turn me down? Why did I have to wait another ten years before what was written in the stars was fulfilled.'

He saw the corner of her mouth twitch. Was the blasted woman laughing at him? 'You cannot blame that on us, Goblin King. It was your method of wooing that delayed your wedding day. Believe me, the spellmaster was furious. He turned himself into a rock and wouldn't talk for days, and when he did finally talk, he called you a blooming fool.'

He scowled at her from across the room. 'I wouldn't have had to woo her if he hadn't hid her from me.'

'If you wanted her love, you would have had to woo her. She's half human, and human women don't just fall in love because you marry them and order them to do so. Ciarán learned that lesson very early in his courtship of Meara. But despite your earlier mishaps, all has ended well. You have your queen, and she loves you.'

'What makes you think it's ended well?' Jareth retorted. 'Would I be here if it had?'

The side of her mouth turned downwards. 'What do you mean?'

'That blasted ring of Meara's has been sending her dreams, haunting her as she calls it, and now she wants answers.'

The elf woman inclined her head once again. 'I'm not surprised. The Elfstone longs for the Elfstone heir. It has not been happy serving the usurper yet it must serve whoever rules the Vale. It will continue to seek her until she stands where her parents stood. You, Goblin King, must help her find her destiny. It is time to tell her the truth.'

'If I tell her the truth, if she finds out that I've known who and what she is, she'll hate me. She'll think I deliberately kept it from her.'

'Didn't you?'

'I didn't have all the answers.'

'Now you do. You must tell her and trust the stars for the outcome.'

***SCENE CHANGE***

Toby was not happy. In fact he was greatly disturbed. He leaned against the doorway of his sister's room, watching her apply lipstick. Why did she need lipstick for a _business_ meeting? He didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. And that black, slinky dress…Jareth would hit the roof if he knew she'd put it on for someone other than him. Her behavior was seriously jeopardizing any hopes he might have of being the next Goblin King.

And, besides, he cared about his sister and didn't want her messing up her life. She'd been wonderfully happy until those dreams started. She needed to go back to the Goblin King and be wonderfully happy again.

'That's an awful sexy dress for a business meeting.' He noted.

'It's dinner.' Sarah said, picking up a brush and pulling it through her hair. 'I can't go in jeans and a t-shirt.'

'Why not? I do it all the time.'

'You're a teenager. It's all you have.'

'I don't see why you couldn't have met in his office.' Toby grumbled. 'That's usually were _business_ is conducted.'

'He says he takes his clients to dinner all the time.' Sarah said with a shrug. 'He said it's more conducive to talking about skeletons in closets.'

'He looks the type that would have a few skeletons stuffed in tight places.'

She shot him a glance. 'You're not going to start in about his teeth again, are you?'

'If you want to have dinner with Dracula…' he let the sentence trail off suggestively.

Sarah obviously didn't like what he was suggesting. She slammed the brush down on the vanity and turned in her chair to glare at him. 'It's dinner, not an affair.'

Toby studied his fingernails. 'I suppose that's what a lot of women have told themselves.'

'What exactly are you trying to say?'

'Oh, nothing. I just can't imagine Jareth being too pleased if he knew you was going to dinner with Count Dracula dressed in a dress like that. Matter of fact, I think a few goblin heads would roll if he knew.'

'Jareth isn't here.' She snapped, turning to face the mirror once again. 'He chose to go back home.'

'Is that what this is about?' Toby exclaimed. 'You're still sore about him for ordering you to go home and then disappearing when you refused?'

'No,' Sarah said, standing up, 'this is about stopping those dreams, and if that means dinner with Dracula, then it means dinner with Dracula. Got it, sport?'

Toby watched her scoop up her wrap and a small black purse before stalking out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Shortly thereafter the front door banged followed by the sound of her rental revving up. Tires squealed as she left the driveway.

'What was that all about?' His father yelled from downstairs.

'Nothing, Dad!' He called back. 'Just being a woman, I guess.'

'I heard that!' His mother yelled.

Toby went down the hall to his own room and threw himself down on the bed. He grimaced and removed a book from under his back, tossing it onto the floor. He really ought to tidy up someday. His room looked like a disaster zone, but he didn't have time for straightening his room. He had to straighten out his sister.

He considered the problem from all angles and only came up with two solutions. Either he could crash Sarah's dinner date, which was sort of impossible since he didn't have his drivers licenses and explaining to his parents why they needed to drive him to a place called The Stone Jar would take more time than he had or he could go get Jareth and tell him it was high time he collected his wife.

The choice, as far as Toby was concerned, was a no brainer.

***SCENE CHANGE***

'I'm so glad you could meet me for dinner.' Ron Drummond said, pouring them both a glass of wine from the bottle left by the waiter. 'It's so much friendlier than the office, don't you think?'

Sarah cast a glance around the restaurant. She would have chosen a different word to describe their surroundings. A 'friendly' place would have loud music and people laughing over a few beers at the bar. The Stone Jar had neither.

Oh, it had a bar, but the people were not laughing nor where they drinking beer. They were sipping martinis as they conversed in subdued voices, and the music, a sort of new age piano, could not in any way be described as loud. Everything, from its low lighting to its secluded tables, had been designed to create an atmosphere of intimacy….which at that moment was causing Sarah a great deal of unease.

She should have never agreed to this. Toby was right. Business should be conducted in an office, not a restaurant. She couldn't imagine what made her accept his invitation. After all, who had ever heard of having dinner with one's genealogist? It was like having dinner with one's dentist!

_Oh, hell,_ she groaned, glancing down at the napkin in her lap, _there it was again_. A reference to teeth. Damn Toby for putting it in her head. It was like the song 'Come on, Eileen'. It just got stuck there, driving you mad, toora loo-rye-aye and all that. Whenever she looked at him, her eyes were immediately drawn to those teeth and visions of Dracula sulking down a dark passage ran through her head like a B-rate movie.

'I thought your office very friendly.' She said a bit lamely. 'It was very professional, exactly what I would expect from a genealogist.' Good Lord, she was beginning to babble. 'By the way, how's your receptionist?'

He'd been getting ready to take a sip of wine and stopped, staring at her over the rim. 'My receptionist?'

'You know,' Sarah said, pointing to her jaw, 'the abscess.'

Oh, jeez, teeth again!

'Oh, that.' He said with a little chuckle. 'She had a root canal and was back to the work the next morning. Madge is a real trooper.'

'Good.' Sarah said. 'Great.'

He set down his wineglass, put his elbows on the table and looked at her over his folded hands. 'You seem nervous. I assure you that I don't bite.'

_If you want to have dinner with Dracula…_

Just shut up, Toby! Shut up!

Sarah forced her fingers to stop playing with her fork. She carefully laid it beside her plate before saying. 'I'm just eager to hear what you found out about the woman in the photo. You said on the phone that you'd found her. Perhaps we could discuss that before our entrée arrives.'

He removed his elbows and leaned back in his chair. 'Of course, that's what we're here for, isn't it?'

'Yes,' Sarah said firmly, 'it is. Why don't we start with her name?'

He inclined his dark head as though in agreement and said. 'Her name was Mary Kate Doyle. She was your great grandfather's daughter by his first marriage.'

Sarah frowned. 'I didn't know Great Grandpa Doyle had been married twice.'

'He was married to a woman by the name of Anne Morrison. She died of scarlet fever not long after Mary Kate was born, but John, your great grandfather, didn't remarry again until Mary Kate was sixteen. Since the family was fairly well off, I guess he didn't see the need to get her a new mother. She had a nanny and later a governess.'

'Funny that Grandma didn't remember her. You'd think she'd remember a stepsister.'

'She probably didn't remember her because Mary Kate drowned at sea a year before your grandmother was born.'

Sarah stared at him. 'Drown at sea? That's a little unusual, isn't it?'

Drummond shrugged. 'Boating was a favorite pastime of the wealthy in those days, and as you can see from the photo, she obviously liked sailing.'

'How did it happen?'

He thrust a hand into his pocket and removed a photocopy of a newspaper article. It was dated June 19, 1910 and declared 'Doyle Heiress Lost at Sea'. 'I'll let you read the details for yourself, but essentially, she went out sailing and a freak storm came up. She'd been warned not to go out alone, but she was known for her, shall we say, independent nature. To give you an idea, she was involved in the suffrage movement at the tender age of twelve. No doubt introduced to it by her Aunt Jo, a prominent feminist at the time.'

'This says she was an heiress. My family isn't rich.'

'Like a lot of people, your great grandfather lost most of his wealth in the Crash of '29.'

Sarah scanned the article. 'She was only eighteen. How sad.'

'Such a pity.' Drummond agreed.

'It says here that neither her body nor the boat was ever found.'

'Yes, that is interesting, isn't it? I immediately thought of the Bermuda Triangle. They go in but never come out.'

She shot him a glance. 'You don't believe in things like that, do you?'

He was silent for a moment, his eyes on her, studying her and then he said. 'Why not? There are many unexplained things in this world. It's just like this stone.' He reached into his pocket and pulled out the green gem she'd seen earlier in his office. 'There just something about it that fascinates me. Do you know what I mean?'

'No, I don't.' She said, her eyes on the gem. 'I've only touched it once.'

'Then be my guest.' He held it out to her.

'Ah, no thank you.' She told him. 'I'd rather not.'

She was saved from any further urging by the arrival of their entrees. To her dismay, instead of putting the stone away, he placed it on the table between them so that throughout the meal, her eyes were constantly drawn to it. _Why this fascination_, she wondered. Was it because it seemed so familiar yet she was unable to remember why? It was like a veil had been placed over her mind, blocking out that particular memory.

So it was with some relief that she watched the waiter removed their plates and return almost immediately with the check. She reached for her purse.

'I'll get it.' Drummond said.

'Oh, no, I couldn't.' Sarah protested. 'I hired you, not the other way around.'

'I have an expense account for this type of thing.' He told her, reaching for the leather folder. 'Oh, damn,' he muttered a second later, 'I seem to have knocked the stone off the table. Could you grab it for me?'

Reluctantly she bent down, her fingers searching. As soon as she touched the smooth surface, she froze. A vivid image flashed before her eyes. Ron Drummond, or someone very much like him, had just thrust a knife into a bearded man's back. There was a look of surprise on the man's face and then he pitched forward. Drummond reached down, removed the knife and then stood back, smiling as he surveyed his handiwork.

The image was gone as quickly as it had come, but Sarah remained froze in place, her heart racing.

'Sarah?' Drummond called. 'Are you alright?'

She sat upright, holding the stone out to him. 'I'm fine. It…it rolled under my chair.'

Their hands touched briefly in the exchange, and she shuddered. Toby was right. There was something not quite right about this man, and she needed to leave.

'I really do appreciate the work you've done.' She said, standing up. 'I'll drop a check in the mail to you, ok?'

Drummond rose to his feet, frowning. 'You really don't look well. I'll walk you to your car.'

'No, no, I'm fine.' She assured him, backing away.

He might have followed her if the waiter hadn't arrived that moment with his receipt. Taking advantage of his distraction, she made a run for it, hurrying out of the restaurant and across the parking lot. She jumped in the car, started the engine and floored the accelerator. It was only after she was sure he wasn't following that she pulled the car into the parking lot of a strip mall and broke down.

She didn't cry. She just sat there, gasping and shaking. The image had been so vivid and so violent. It was like one of her dreams, but not a dream because she wasn't asleep. Would they never leave her alone? Would they drive her mad?

She'd come to the aboveground to find answers, and all she'd found was more questions. Why was her great grandfather's daughter haunting her dreams? And who was her father? None of it made sense. All these bits of information she'd collected were like pieces in a puzzle that refused to fit together, and she was confused, so very, very confused.

Suddenly an overwhelming urge to go home washed over her. She had to go back to the underground, back to Jareth…she paused as a wave of longing flooded her. _Jareth_, how she needed him right now, how she needed the safety of his arms about her. She didn't care if he made her wait on his doorstep all night and apologize a thousand times. All she cared about was being where she belonged. To hell with saying goodbye to Toby and her dad, to hell with the goblin Sarah and Paul whatever his name was, she was going home. Tonight.

***SCENE CHANGE***

Jareth glided into the window of the Goblin Castle. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally. His meeting with the elf woman had stirred up emotions that he'd suppressed for years, and he felt drained. _But it was a good drained_, he decided, dropping lightly to the floor. The storm had passed, and he felt calm, peaceful even. Knowing the whole truth had freed him, and it was now time to free Sarah. But first…first he had to get some sleep.

'It's about time you showed up.' A voice said as soon as he'd changed back into his human form. 'I've got a history test in the morning, and I haven't studied yet.'

His heart had quickened for a brief moment, thinking it was Sarah, but slowed when he realized it was her brother. He should have never showed the boy how to get to the underground through other means than the pond. As a result the boy popped in and out at will, just like a blasted yo-yo.

'That's your problem, not mine.' Jareth said. 'I didn't invite you here.'

'Gee, you really know how to make a guy feel welcome. Hey! Where are you going?'

'To bed.' Jareth replied, walking toward the bedchamber, his fingers on the buttons of his black jacket. 'So I suggest you hurry up and tell me what you want so I can get some sleep and you can get back to your algebra.'

'History.' Toby corrected, following him in the bedchamber. He picked up the jacket Jareth had tossed carelessly on the floor. 'You can't go to sleep.'

Jareth glared at him from the side of the bed where he was removing his boots. 'Watch me.'

'But you can't.' Toby insisted. 'You've got to go get Sarah.'

'She's kept this long. I think she'll keep until morning.'

'No, she won't.' Toby protested. 'You've got to get her now.'

The frantic tone in the boy's voice finally captured Jareth's attention, and he looked at him, noting his worried expression. Toby had never been the type of kid to worry. As a matter of fact, Jareth had always found the boy far too laidback. He had often worried that under Toby's rule, the goblins would run amok. But that didn't concern him now. What concerned him was why the boy was so insistent that he had to go collect Sarah.

'What happened?' He demanded. 'Is she sick? Hurt?'

'No, it's not that.' Toby said. 'She's ok. At least health-wise. I'm not so sure about her marbles though. She's obsessed with that picture, so obsessed that she hired Dracula to find this woman, and now she's having dinner with him…right now…in a black, slinky dress.'

Jareth rubbed his eyes wearily. Why did everyone sound like Hoggle these days? 'The reference to marbles and Dracula completely eludes me.'

'Marbles is slang for her mind.' Toby said, tapping his own head as though that would explain everything. 'And she hired a genealogist because Grandma Williams didn't know who the woman was. And this genealogist dude is a creep, ok? He's got teeth like Dracula, well, not really like Dracula's because his are _all_ pointy and I don't think he can suck blood with them, at least, I hope not, and I knew he was up to no good when he gave her that rock and said it liked her. I mean who ever heard of a rock liking someone?'

'Say that again.'

'Do I have to? It was kind of long.'

'Just the part about the teeth and rock.'

Toby sighed. Grown-ups were so slow on the uptake. Usually Jareth was quicker than this, but…he looked at the Goblin King more closely…he was looking a bit worn out. What had the dude been up to?

'This genealogist she hired has pointed teeth, ok? Looks like he filed them down or something. And he has this rock, it's a jewel of some sort, I guess, and when Sarah held it, it glowed brighter than it did before. He told her he'd gotten it a shop called the Goblin's Attic, and it was called an Elfstone.'

Alarm shot through Jareth like a lightning bolt, dissipating all weariness. He was suddenly and completely alert, his full attention on Toby.

'Elfstone?' He said, his voice sharp. 'Did he actually say it was an Elfstone?'

'Yeah, that's what he called it. When I saw the effect it had on Sarah, I took it away from her and put it back on his desk, and then I got her the hell out of there. But that creep had the nerve to call her up and invite her to dinner to discuss the woman. And she accepted! She said if she had to go out to dinner with Dracula to get the dreams to stop, she would. I tell you, Jareth, she's not herself. Isn't there anything you can do to stop these dreams? I think they're driving her crazy or something.'

Jareth rose to his feet, his expression grim. Sleep would have to wait. Sarah was in danger. Ronan had found her, and after seeing the effect Sarah and the Elfstone had on each other, he must suspect that she was the lost princess.

He took the jacket from Toby and shrugged it on. 'Yes, Toby, there's something I can do.'

'Great!' Toby said with a wide grin. 'I knew I could count on you.'

***SCENE CHANGE***

Sarah was frantically digging through dresser drawers when a sudden burst of lilac-scented air ruffled her hair. Had she left the window open again? She glanced up, and in the mirror above the dresser saw Jareth's reflection. He was standing just inside the window, looking very grave, sorrowful almost. She whirled around, clutching underwear in one hand and stockings in the other.

'I thought you said you wouldn't be on my doorstep.'

'I'm not on your doorstep.' He said simply. 'I'm in your bedroom.'

They stared at each other for a long moment, some unspoken emotion flowing between them like an electric current. Then Sarah rushed forward. He caught her easily. Stockings and underwear dropped unnoticed to the floor as she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face against his neck. She smiled. He still smelled of pine.

'Jareth,' she breathed, 'take me home. I want to go home.'

He lifted his head from where it's been resting against her dark hair. With one long finger, he forced her chin up so he could look into her eyes. They were like glistening green pools. He felt himself falter. Would she still love him when she discovered what he'd known and kept from her? But he had to tell her. It was the only way to set her free. It was the only way to protect her.

'Sarah,' he said, his voice husky, 'there's something I need to tell you.'

Her hand covered his mouth. 'Don't say anything. Just take me home.'

He pulled her hand away from his mouth. 'Sarah, I'm serious.'

'So am I.' When he continued to look at her in that grave manner, she said. 'Whatever you have to tell me can wait until we're home.'

He hesitated for a moment and then stooped, swinging her up into his arms. The bedroom in her father's house faded, receding like a wave upon the beach as their bedchamber in the Goblin Castle came into view, enclosing them within its familiar shadows. He placed her on the bed and then sat down beside her. His hand reached out, pushing back a lock of dark hair that had fallen across her face. She was surprised at how incredibly sad he looked.

'Sarah…'

'Shh,' she murmured, her hands reaching for him, pulling him down, 'tell me later.'

'Sarah, this is important.'

She rolled him unto his back and then leaned up on an elbow to look down at him. 'So is this.' She stroked a hand through his pale hair. It was still short. Whatever he'd been doing during their time apart, it hadn't involved growing his hair. 'I missed you, Jareth. Nothing made sense when we were apart. I never want to leave you again. Don't let me leave you.'

'Oh, you precious thing…' he breathed.

Telling her the truth didn't seem quite so urgent just then.

'Hold me. Love me.' Her voice caught. 'I need you so desperately.'

His resolve shattered. Thrusting his fingers into her hair, he pulled her down to him. Their lips met, lingered and met again. Passion flared, white hot and furious. _Later_, he thought, rolling her onto her back, _much later._


	8. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

_Run Away, Little Girl_

_Sarah stared up at the boy. He was young, no more than a teenager, and he was leaning over her cradle, gazing down at her with strange yet beautiful eyes. They fascinated her. His hair, blonde and shaggy hair, fell to his shoulders in wisps. He reached out a hand, touching her cheek. She stared up at him, green eyes wide, and then smiled, reaching out her own chubby hand. He smiled back, showing pointed eyeteeth, before taking the small hand and dropping a kiss on it._

_ 'You're going to be mine.' He told her. 'It's written in the stars, and the stars never lie.'_

_ Then he was pulling away, straightening up, turning to face a bearded man. They exchanged words, and then together they walked away. Somewhere in the distance thunder rumbled, and Sarah began to cry._

Thunder rumbled again, and Sarah sat bolt upright in bed. Lightening flashed, gilding everything in the bedchamber ghostly silver. She reached for the firepot and then turned to the man sleeping beside her. She was surprised to find him awake, his eyes staring at her. Once again she noticed how sad he looked.

'It was you.' She said. 'You were no more than seventeen or eighteen.'

He didn't pretend not to understand what she meant. Instead he answered simply. 'I was nineteen when I went to your father and asked for your hand in marriage.'

'My father?' She echoed, dark brows pulling together in a puzzled frown. 'I don't understand.'

'Dave Williams is not your father.'

'I know. He told me that I was two years old when he and my mother met.'

'She wasn't your mother.'

'What do you mean?' Sarah said with a little laugh. 'Of course, she was my mother. Who else could she be?'

Jareth pulled himself up so that he was leaning against the headboard. He ran a hand through his rumpled hair before saying. 'She was your mother's handmaiden. Her name is Deidra, and she took you away from your father's kingdom on the night he was betrayed. She took you to the mountains where you'd be safe. She did this with your mother's approval.'

'Jareth,' Sarah said with another little laugh, 'don't tease me. I don't like it. I've already lost one mother. Don't tell me I'm losing another.'

'I'm not teasing you.' He said, his voice gruff, snappish. 'I'm telling you the truth. I should have told you the truth a long time ago, but I didn't know it myself. Not all of it. Parts of it had been hidden from me as well. While we were apart, I discovered the whole truth, the complete story that shaped both of our lives. Do you want to hear it or not?'

Sarah stared at him. He sounded serious, dead serious, but she couldn't quite believe what he was saying to her.

Before she could answer, he continued on, his voice flat as though he were reciting something unpleasant. 'Your father was Ciarán, the Elf King, and your mother was Meara. She's the girl in the photograph. Together they reigned over the Elfstone Vale. It borders the Goblin Kingdom to the east.'

'The girl in the photograph was called Mary Kate Doyle.' Sarah interjected.

He nodded. 'That was her name in the aboveground, but when Ciarán found her washed upon the shore he called her Meara, which in the old language means 'sea'.'

Sarah remembered the newspaper article, about how Mary Kate's body and boat were never found. Had Ron Drummond been right? Had something like the Bermuda Triangle transported her to another world, to the underground?

'How did she get there? On the shore, I mean.'

'No one knew, but it was speculated that the merfolk had rescued her and left her on the shore for someone to find. That someone turned out to be Ciarán. He asked her to be his queen, and eventually she accepted.'

'Eventually?'

'It's my understanding that she didn't take to him right away. Said he was arrogant or some such nonsense.'

'Sounds like a perfectly good reason not to marry someone.'

He sent her a bad-tempered glance before continuing. 'For many years they waited for the child. We _all_ waited for the child. Then, finally, she came, and they named her Aibhlinn, which means 'longed for child'. When she was a year old, I came and asked Ciarán for her hand in marriage, and he agreed. The contract was signed. On her sixteenth birthday, she was to be mine.'

'And what happened?'

Sarah was lost in the story. It was like one of the fairytales she had loved as a child, and she'd forgotten that this was supposedly her story he was telling.

'On the very day the agreement was signed, Ciarán was betrayed. The captain of the guard, Ronan Dragonheart, stabbed him in the very chamber where the Elfstone had resided for centuries. An attack was led on the castle, and it fell. Without the Elfstone, it could not stand against its enemies.'

Hadn't Ron Drummond called that green gem an Elfstone? The bed suddenly didn't seem as comfortable as it had. She shifted uneasily.

'Deidra, as I've already told you, took the child to the mountains to protect her from the usurper. She and the spellmaster hid the child for an hundred years and then took the child to the aboveground and gave her to her own people.'

His voice had become hard again. She could tell this part of the story hurt him a great deal. And then she remembered that he'd been betrothed to Aibhlinn and he must have believed the child lost. Knowing how deeply Jareth felt things, she knew he must have spent years in anguish, mourning his lost bride.

'Why was she hidden for so long?'

'There was some sort of spell on her that kept her from growing older. When she finally began to grow, that's when they took her to the aboveground, and she stayed there until _I _found her,' his eyes bore into her, insisting that she believe him, 'until I took a baby that she asked me to take, until I brought her back to the world where she belonged.'

Sarah drew back.

'No,' she said, shaking her head, 'it's not true. It's just a fairytale, a story you made up to amuse me, a dream. I wasn't born here. I'm not a princess. I'm just plain, old Sarah Williams. I'm just a girl who happened to find a way into another world. Like Mary Kate.'

He leaned forward, grasping her shoulders. 'It's true. Every word of it. You are Aibhlinn.' She continued to shake her head. 'If you won't believe me, then believe the dreams. Everything I've told you, you've seen in those dreams. You've seen your mother. You've seen Deidra. You've seen the battle. You've even seen me. The Elfstone is calling you. It's showing you who you are. You _are_ the lost princess. You _are_ the Elfstone heir.'

Sarah put her hands against her ears. No! She wouldn't listen anymore.

'Sarah,' he said, giving her a little shake, 'listen to me.'

'Why should I?' She burst out angrily. 'Why should I listen to someone who kept all this from me? Who…who brought me here under…under false pretenses?'

He flinched as though she'd struck him. 'I lost you for one hundred and sixteen years. I,' he faltered, his voice breaking, 'I was afraid that if I told you, I'd lose you again.'

'Then why tell me now?'

'Because you're in danger.'

'Danger?' She exclaimed. 'How could I be in danger?'

'Ronan Dragonheart still reigns in your father's place. If he should find you…'

The image of Ron Drummond standing over the bearded man's dead body flashed through Sarah's mind.

'No!' She screamed, jumping out of the bed. She reached for the clothing strewn across the floor, hastily putting it on. 'No, I won't listen anymore. I won't. I won't.'

'Sarah…' Jareth said, sitting up.

She ran over to the wooden box where her gloves were kept, scooped them up and then ran to the bedchamber door, throwing it open. Thunder greeted her. She ignored it, stumbling toward the window as she pulled on the gloves. She knew she must appear mad to Jareth, and perhaps she was, but she had to get out of there. She had to get away from…_the truth._ She climbed onto the ledge.

'Sarah!' Jareth yelled, coming out of the bedchamber.

She glanced back at him and then did a swan dive out the window.

Seconds later Jareth saw a white dove flapping its way furiously into the turbulent night. He followed, his larger wingspan quickly overtaking the smaller bird, but the dove dived into a strand of trees, quickly losing itself among the thick vegetation. Then the rain started, hard and furious. Finding Sarah in a storm like that would be impossible. He'd have to wait until daybreak and then use the crystal to locate her. Reluctantly, he turned back for the castle.

The dove, however, continued flying, its path wild and desperate. She didn't know where she was going. She just knew she had to get away from everything that threatened the reality she's known for the last twenty seven years. In the back of her mind, she knew it was futile. One couldn't run from the truth, but at that moment, she wasn't thinking straight.

Lightning flashed and thunder cracked all around her and rain beat against her, nearly driving her into the ground, but still she flew onward. She didn't know where she was. The terrain below her was unfamiliar, what she could see of it, and somewhat sinister. There were deep gorges and tumbling water. Yet she struggled on, her strength beginning to wane.

Suddenly out of nowhere two great birds swooped in. She dipped downwards, flapping furiously, but they followed, their great beaks stabbing, forcing her further and further down, until she landed on the wet turf. Immediately they were on her, clawing with their feet, pecking with their beaks. She screamed, putting her arms up to shield her face.

And then as suddenly as they appeared they were gone, flying off into the night. Sarah collapsed onto the sod, breathing heavily. Rain continued to soak her, but she had no energy to find shelter. She closed her eyes, and let the blissful nothingness of unconscious overtake her.

A figure in a hooded cloak, similar to a monk's cowl, detached itself from a cluster of evergreens and strode toward her. On its arm rested two large crows.

'Excellent work, my lovelies.' The figure murmured, scratching one beneath its chin. 'Excellent work.'

It stopped over the form of the woman, and then it bent, lifting her. She hung like a dead woman in its arms, her dark hair streaming out like a sodden banner. The hooded figure began to walk, slowly but steadily toward the huge outline of a castle.

***SCENE CHANGE***

Sarah opened her eyes. Everything was fuzzy at first but slowly it came into focus. She stared at the deep green canopy above her. _It was embroidered with silver thread just like the bearded man's tunic,_ she thought inanely. She turned her head on the pillow, eyes searching out her surroundings. She saw very little for the room was dark and shadowed. The only light came from a firepot on the bed stand table.

She tried to remember what had happened. She'd left the Goblin Castle. Jareth had followed, but at some point he must have turned back because she'd been alone, flying into the storm. Then two birds had come at her, forcing her to the ground. She'd turned back into her human form, and they'd left, but then she'd lost consciousness. _You did not faint_, she told herself, _you were just overcome with exhaustion._

But that still didn't explain where she was and how she'd gotten there. She began to sit up and then winced as every muscle in her body seemed to cry out in protest. Either she was seriously out of shape or those damn birds had been rougher than she'd thought. She fell back against the pillows with a groan.

'So you're awake at last.' A voice said from the darkness.

She stifled a scream. She had thought herself alone. 'Who's there?'

There was the sound of someone rising from a chair and then footsteps. A form approached the bed, and she nearly screamed again as Ron Drummond's dark features came into view.

'I see you recognize me.'

'You're Ron Drummond.'

'In the aboveground, yes,' he agreed, 'but here I'm known by the name Ronan Dragonheart.' He saw her flinch and smiled, showing his teeth. 'Ah, you know the name. Excellent. That will save us a great deal of time.'

'Time for what?'

'Why to get to know each other.' He murmured, letting his eyes travel from her head to her toes. 'You ran off the other night before we could become better acquainted.'

'I have no desire to become acquainted with you.' Sarah retorted, courage returning.

'So someone has told you I murdered your father.'

'No one had to tell me.' She replied. 'I saw it.'

He seemed taken aback for a moment and then nodded his head. 'So that's why you ran off. The Elfstone gave you a vision. I did wonder if it was wise to give you the stone, but I'm a bit of a gambler. I wagered that in the end it would all work to my benefit, and so it has. Here you are.'

'Is that why you killed him?' She asked. 'Because you were a gambler?'

'I only did what thousands of men before me have done, what Fallon, the first Elk King, did. You don't think he built this place himself, do you? Oh, no, he took it just like I took it. The humans have a term for such things. It's called 'survival of the fittest'. You can't blame me for simply following the rules of nature, can you?'

'Did you have to _murder_ to get it?' She sneered.

'I had little choice in the matter, you know.' He told her in an almost conversational tone. 'If I wanted the kingdom, I had to take it by force. The only other way was to marry the heir, but he'd already promised you to that Goblin boy, and I knew there was no use trying to persuade him to rescind his claim. _He_ believed in those blasted stars that everyone in this world thinks so highly of. But even if the boy hadn't interfered, Ciarán still wouldn't have given you to me. I was captain of the guard. I was unworthy of the Elfstone heir. So,' he said with a shrug, 'I took what he wouldn't give me.'

'You took his kingdom but not his child.'

'Yes,' Ronan agreed, 'that was a bit of a disappointment, but as long as the heir was lost, what did I care? You were no threat to me. As far as I knew, as far as anybody knew, you were as dead as your parents. And that suited me just fine. However, now that you are alive, something must be done with you.'

'I'm not a threat.' Sarah said hastily. 'I already have a kingdom. I have no need for another.'

'It makes no difference what you want.' He told her. 'It's what the Elfstone wants, and it wants you, my darling.' He reached out a hand, trailing it down the side of her cheek. 'And seeing you now, all grown up and as beautiful as your mother, I'm inclined to agree with it. The Elfstone needs its heir, and I'm willing to cooperate with it.'

Sarah pulled back, pressing herself against the pillows to avoid his hand. 'I don't understand.'

'Then let me explain it to you.' He sat down on the side of the bed. She scooted to the side. He placed a hand beside her hip, trapping her against his body. 'You and I, my lovely, are going to be married, and everything will be just as it should be. The Elfstone will be happy, and I,' he let his eyes once again traveling down her body, 'anticipate great happiness for myself as well.'

Sarah stared at him, aghast. 'You're mad.'

'I assure you, I'm as sane as you.'

'But I'm already happily married.'

He tilted his head to one side as though in thought. 'Yes, that is an irritating little detail, but I'm willing to make arrangements for you.'

'What kind of arrangements?'

'I can arrange for a quiet little divorce or I can arrange for a quiet little execution. I prefer the execution myself, but to show you how generous I can be, I'll leave the choice up to you.'

_There is was again_, Sarah thought, _a clearly delusional belief about one's generosity._ What was it with these underground dictators? He was clearly mad, but looking at him, seeing his self-confident smile, she knew that mad or not, he meant exactly what he said. But she couldn't and wouldn't agree to either.

'If you think I'm going to divorce Jareth or allow you to murder him, you're as mad as a March Hare.' She declared.

He looked at her with those black eyes, the smile gone. 'I see you've inherited your mother's stubborn streak. How unfortunate.'

'Jareth never seemed to have a problem with it.'

'I am not Jareth.'

'Which is why I'm not marrying you.'

'I assure you that you are.' He said, his voice hard. 'The Elfstone insisted upon it. Why do you think it's been sending you all those dreams? It was drawing you back to where you belong.'

'I might belong here.' She retorted. 'But you certainly do not.'

'How unfortunate for you that I have no intention of leaving.'

'Then I'll leave.'

'I'm afraid I can't let you do that.'

Talking sense to his man was like banging her head against a wall. She had only one threat left to use.

'You can't keep me here forever. Jareth knows I'm missing and will coming looking for me.'

'I'm counting on it.' Ronan said, his smile returning. 'Let him come. He'll be walking right into my little trap. Once I have him, you'll have a greater incentive to cooperate. He'll have difficulty locating you thanks for the Elfstone so we'll have to give him a clue, won't we?' His hand flashed out, grasped the necklace around her neck and jerked downward. The chain was strong and bit deeply into Sarah's neck before giving way. 'I think he'll recognize this, don't you?'

He made a whistling sound, and a large crow flew out of the darkness, landing on his shoulder. He held the necklace out to it.

'Take this to the Goblin King with my compliments.'

The bird scooped up the necklace in its beak and flew off.

Ronan stood up. 'It's nearly daybreak. You'll find a change of clothing in the armoire and water for washing on the dresser. Please don't dally, my darling. We'll have company in about an hour, and I'm sure you'll want to look your best.'

Sarah waited patiently for the door to close before tossing back the covers. She had just swung her feet to the ground when she heard a click. He'd locked her in, the creep! Not that that would stop her. A locked door was no match for her gloves.

Hurrying over to the door, she gave it an experimental turn just to make sure it was locked. When it didn't budge, she waved her hand over it and waited for the click. It didn't come. She tried again. Nothing. The door remained locked.

She stared down at the doorknob, stunned. For some reason the gloves weren't working. It was as though they'd been drained of their power or something. She now knew what Ronan had meant when he'd said that Jareth would be walking into a trap. If her gloves didn't work, neither would his. He'd be completely powerless.

***SCENE CHANGE***

'Show me Sarah.'

The crystal remained distressingly clear. Not a tree, not a leaf, not a feather, nothing. Jareth scowled and threw the crystal across the room, narrowly missing Hoggle as he strode into the throne room. The crystal bounced off the wall and rolled in a zigzag pattern until it stopped in front of Hoggle. He picked it up and held it out to Jareth.

'Drop something?'

Jareth snatched the crystal from him with something close to a snarl. 'Have you found that bloody cat yet?'

'No.' Hoggle said sullenly. 'And I ain't going to. We've searched the entire wood at least half a dozen times, and that moggy ain't nowhere to be found.'

'I don't like your answer, Hogworm.' Jareth snapped. 'I don't like it at all.'

'Well, that's too bad because it's the only one you're going to get.'

Jareth's sense of inadequacy over not being able to locate Sarah boiled over into a need to display his power in no uncertain terms. Hoggle had just been rude to him for the last time! What good was this mouthy little scab anyway? He couldn't ever find a mangy cat!

'Higgle,' he said with a smile that sent a trickle of unease down Hoggle's spine, 'since you've done such an excellent job as governor of the Dark Wood, despite this current little failure, of course, I've decided to promote you.'

'Promote me?' Hoggle said dubiously. 'Promote me to what?'

'To Prince of the Bog of Eternal Stench!'

Jareth raised his crop to carry out his threat and then suddenly doubled over, falling to his knees as white hot pain sliced through him like a machete. He clutched his chest, breathing heavily as the pain continued to throb, tearing at him with razor sharp claws.

'Jareth?' Hoggle said uncertainly. 'You alright?'

'My heart…' he gasped out.

'Oh damn,' Hoggle muttered, 'I knew all your ranting and raving would lead to something like this one day. I'll get the fox. He always has an answer for everything.'

There were hurried footsteps followed by some scuffling and heated whispers at the door, and then Sir Didymus was rushing in.

'My liege,' he cried, 'what is it? Shall I send for the doctor?'

'No, no,' Jareth gritted, 'don't send for that quack. Just…just give me a moment. It'll pass.'

Hoggle and Sir Didymus waited…and waited…and waited. They waited for a good fifteen minutes before Jareth finally rose to his feet. Although the pain had faded, his expression remained pinched. With a sigh that sounded as though it come for the depths of his being, he dropped into his throne and buried his head in his hands. He hadn't felt this helpless since he learned of the Beloved's disappearance. And here he was, mourning her disappearance once again.

'My liege,' Sir Didymus ventured, 'would I be too bold in asking what just happened?'

'She no longer wears my heart. It's been taken from her.'

Hoggle and Didymus exchanged glances. They seemed to be having a silent argument about who would ask the obvious question. Finally Didymus sallied forth again. '_Who_ no longer wear your heart?'

'Sarah.' Jareth gritted out. 'Your queen.'

'But how could that be? Isn't she safe within these walls?'

'No!' Jareth snapped, shooting to his feet and stalking over to the window. He stood for a moment to two glowering down at the Goblin City before saying. 'She left the castle last night. Flew off into the storm like the bog hounds were on her. I followed but the storm was too great. I had to turn back, and now I'm unable to locate her in the crystal. After what just happened I can only assume the worse.'

'What makes you think the heart was taken from her?' Hoggle asked. 'Couldn't she have just lost it?'

'If she'd lost it or removed it herself, I wouldn't have felt the pain. For me to feel that kind of pain, it would have to be removed by force.'

'What braggart would dare such a thing?' Sir Didymus asked.

'I can think of at least two.'

There was a long pause in which the clock above the throne continued to tick and then Hoggle suddenly said. 'I'll get a regiment of goblins together right now and go look for her.'

'If you couldn't find a cat, what makes you think you'll find Sarah?'

If looks could kill Jareth would have had a dagger in his back just then. 'I'll find her.'

'I don't think that will be necessary.' Jareth said, continuing to stare out the window.

'Why not?'

'Because we're about to receive an emissary from the _braggart_ that has her.'

He stood to one side as a crow flew into the throne room, a necklace dangling from its mouth. It dropped the piece of jewelry at Jareth feet and then croaked and flapped its wings before flying off again. Jareth reached down and picked up the necklace, his hand closing fiercely around the blood red heart.

'What was that all about?' Hoggle demanded.

'Obviously this…er…emissary gave the king a message.' Sir Didymus said.

'And I suppose he can speak crow?'

'Of course, I can speak crow.' Jareth snapped. 'But it wasn't necessary. I know exactly who has Sarah.'

'_Who?'_ Hoggle exploded, nearly hopping up and down in frustration.

'Ronan Dragonheart.'

'Not that perfidious traitor?' Sir Didymus exclaimed with a curl of his lip.

'I see his fame precedes him.'

'So what are we going to do?' Hoggle demanded.

'_We're_ not doing anything.' Jareth stated. 'I, however, am going to make a little visit.'

'I could have a regiment of goblins together in…' Hoggle began.

'You'll stay here.' Jareth interrupted. 'And that goes for you too, Deadmouse. I don't need you two slowing me down.'

And with that he changed himself in the white owl and flew out the window.

'Did you hear that?' Hoggle demanded. 'Slowing him down, he says. Hmpf.'

'He's quite right, you know.' Didymus said. 'He can travel much faster by wing than what we can on foot.'

'Whose side are you on anyway?'

'It's not a matter of sides…' Didymus began.

'Well, I ain't sitting around this pile of rocks when Sarah needs me.' Hoggle said, cutting in.

'You're not thinking about disobeying his orders, are you?' Didymus asked, incredulous. 'He very nearly sent you to the bog just now.'

'Been listening at keyholes again?'

'Certainly not.' The fox exclaimed, clearly affronted. 'I don't need to. The two of you converse loud enough to wake King Arthur and all his knights.'

'Are you coming or not?' Hoggle demanded, tired of beating around the bush. 'If you ain't, I'll go myself.'

'I don't know.' Didymus said dubiously. 'I've never disobeyed orders before. An honorable knight never does.'

'But this is Sarah.' Hoggle pointed out. 'Didn't we tell her that if she needed us we'd be there? Don't you knights have a thing about keeping oaths?'

'If I did go, how to you propose to get us there?'

'You leave that to me.' When the fox continued to waver, he added. 'It's an adventure fraught with dangers and hardships untold. Only the bravest of knights could accomplish it.'

'Then lead on, good sir!' Didymus exclaimed. 'Lead on!'

***SCENE CHANGE***

Sarah sat beside Ron Drummond or Ronan Dragonheart, whatever he called himself, feeling incredibly edgy. She knew it was only a matter of time before Jareth showed up. She knew him well enough to know that nothing would keep him from coming short of death and dismemberment. His absolute confidence in himself and his gloves would make him reckless. It would never occur to him that he was walking into a trap.

She cast a look beneath her lashes at the man beside her. He sat in the throne that had once been her father's, smiling to himself as he stroked one of the evil-looking black crows. The other one had not returned from its mission yet and Sarah wondered what could be keeping it. It had been gone for well over an hour.

As though her thoughts had summoned him, a great owl suddenly appealed, gliding in through one of the open arches that lined the room, carrying a limp black object in its talons. The owl circled once and then in a whirl of feathers and white light, Jareth stood before them. He tossed the dead crow at Ronan's feet.

'With my compliments.'

Sarah sensed the other man's tension, saw his hand curl ever so slightly on the arm of the throne, but other than that he showed no reaction to his pet being killed.

'How nice of you to drop in.' He said, staring at Jareth with lowered, almost sleepy lids. 'We've been expecting you, haven't we, darling?'

Sarah refused to answer. She just looked at Jareth, willing him to understand her silent message. _You're in danger_, her eyes told him. _Don't worry about me. Leave now before it's too late._ But she knew it was already too late. Once he'd flown through the window, his power had been neutralized. She was surprised that he'd been allowed to turn back into his human form, but she guessed that Ronan felt he would have more fun taunting the human Jareth than his avian alter ego. And that was part of his personality. Like cat over a mouse, Ronan enjoyed tormenting his victims.

'You know what I've come for.' Jareth stated. 'I've come to take back my queen.'

'Of course. I would have done the same thing. In many ways, we are similar, Goblin King.'

'There's nothing similar between us.' Jareth spat before turning to Sarah and holding out his hand. 'Come, Sarah, let's go home.'

She wanted to get up, to run to him, but she couldn't. By some power unknown to her, Ronan had complete control over her. She'd learned that when she'd shown up dressed in her own clothes. Like a puppeteer with a marionette, he had forced her back upstairs and into one of the gowns that hung in the wardrobe. Now he kept her stuck to the smaller throne as though she was sitting in super glue.

'I…I can't.' She said helplessly.

He frowned, seeing her miserable look yet not understanding.

'What she means is,' Ronan interrupted, 'she can't go to you because I won't let her.'

'You have no power over her.' Jareth retorted.

'Oh, but I do.' Ronan said. 'Shall I demonstrate?'

Without giving him the opportunity to reply, Ronan waved his hand, and Sarah felt herself being forced to her feet. No matter how she fought against it, she found herself dropping into his lap and putting her arms around his neck. She cringed inwardly as she lifted her chin for his kiss. She heard Jareth's growl of anger, but she could do nothing to stop it.

'You see,' Ronan said, 'I can make her do whatever I want. I can even make her do this.'

Sarah felt herself rising and walking over to Jareth. Her eyes pleaded with him as she raised a hand and slapped him across the face. Then she turned, walked back to the smaller throne and sat down. She felt tears running down her face but knew those did not come from Ronan. They came from her.

'In a few months I won't have to force her anymore.' Ronan went on. 'She'll obey me by her own will.'

'I don't know what you've done to her.' Jareth rasped. 'But she's not staying here. She's leaving with me.'

'Oh, I think not.'

'How will you stop me?' Jareth demanded. 'I'm the Goblin King, and my power is equal to yours.'

'Under normal circumstances, I admit that I would have difficulty.' Ronan replied. 'But you have forgotten where you are and what has protected this Vale ever since Fallon, the first Elf King, came here.' The black eyes studied Jareth carefully. 'You don't believe me? Go ahead then. Try to take her from me.'

Jareth immediately held out his hand once again. Sarah remained seated. He walked over to her, took her hand in his and gave a little tug. She remained glued to the seat. He looked at her, his eyes questioning, and she looked back, helpless.

'You see, Goblin King,' Ronan said with a smile, 'your magic won't work here. The Elfstone won't allow it. You're as helpless as any human within these walls. Such a pity.'

Jareth turned on him angrily. 'If that's true, then how were you able to murder Ciarán and steal his kingdom?'

'As captain of the guard, I had access to everything in this castle and city. It was quite simple really. I removed the Elfstone and replaced it with a fake until the kingdom was mine. Then I returned the Elfstone. It has the power to protect and grant wishes, but like a genie in a bottle, it must serve the one that possesses it. Nevertheless, it continues to long for its original master, the Elk Kings and their heirs.' His eyes went to Sarah. 'Meara's ring was just a small piece of the stone, but it recognized Aibhlinn at once and has been calling her ever since, calling her back to where she belongs, here at my side. Once I marry the Elfstone heir, my power will be complete.'

'Over my dead body.' Jareth gritted.

'I'm rather planning on that. Guards!'

A troop of five boar-like creatures appeared at the door of the room, carrying battle axes.

'Show our friend to the dungeon.'

One of them took hold of Jareth's arm, but he shook it off. He was a king, and he would leave by his own volition, not as a prisoner. Giving Sarah a look that promised this was not over, that he'd be back, he turned and followed the guards from the room.

'Well, my darling,' Ronan murmured, 'it looks as though the Goblin King's fate is in your lovely hands. What shall it be? An execution at dawn or a quiet little divorcee before lunch?'

Sarah glared at him. 'I'd rather you kill me like my father.'

'I did consider it, but after seeing you, I had a change of heart. But I'll make a deal with you. Once I tire of you, say in a year or two, I'll send you to be with your beloved Goblin King…should you choose execution, of course.'

He got up, his laughter following him from the room.

Sarah stared after him, hate for her captor mixing with the intense anguish she felt for being the cause of their current predicament. _Why had she run away like a madwoman last night_, she asked herself for the thousandth time. She'd known what Jareth was telling her was the truth, but somehow she hadn't able or willing to accept it. It'd been too much, too soon, and she had panicked. What a fool she'd been! She'd run right into the arms of the man who murdered her father.

And now the bastard was intending to murder her husband as well. She did not for one minute believe that if she chose divorce, he'd let Jareth walk away, alive and well. He couldn't. He knew that Jareth would not stop until he'd gotten his queen back. Therefore, whatever her answer, he would find a way to kill the Goblin King.

She had to stop him, to revenge her family and save Jareth, but for the life of her, she didn't know how.


	9. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

_Dungeons & Dragons_

'Egad,' Sir Didymus exclaimed, holding his nose, 'these monkeys stink worse than the bog.'

'How would you know?' Hoggle yelled above the rush of the wind. 'Your sniffer hasn't worked in ages.'

'Since departing the bog, it's experienced a miraculous recovery.' Didymus yelled back. 'And at the moment it's being highly offended. Couldn't you have secured a more odoriferous means of transport?'

'Ah, quit your whining.' Hoggle grumbled. 'You wanted wings, and I got you wings. What do you want for five bob an hour?'

_A clothespin for one's nose perhaps_, Sir Didymus wondered as the monkeys zigzagged through a stand of pine before swooping down into a deep ravine where water tumbled over a cliff into a blue green pool.

'There it is!' Hoggle cried as the turrets of a castle came into view, silhouetted against the deep orange of the fading sunset. 'Put us down over there, in those bushes.'

The monkeys dived for the bushes, dropping Hoggle and then Didymus before flying off. Unfortunately, the bushes turned out to be brambles so it was some time before they managed to disentangle themselves. If Didymus hadn't brought a sword, the campaign to rescue Sarah might have ended in total disaster right then and there.

'So, good sir,' Didymus said, plucking burrs out of his tail, 'what's the plan for our attack? I favor a frontal assault myself.'

'Are you daft?' Hoggle exclaimed. 'There's a hundred of them to two of us. I don't like them odds.' He stared at the castle, studying the walls, noting the position of the black armored guards. 'I'm for sneaking in and sneaking out.'

'It's not as fun.' Didymus warned.

'I ain't here for a party.'

'Well,' Didymus said somewhat dubiously, 'you're the commander of this campaign, and if you think it's best…'

'I do.'

'Then I'm with you. When do we…err…sneak?'

'As soon as it's dark.'

***SCENE CHANGE***

'Ah, I see that one of our guests is already here.' Ronan said as he led Sarah into the dining room that evening.

It was a long room and must have been beautiful in the days of the Elf Kings, but like everything in the castle, it retained only small glimpses of its former glory. Tapestries, intricately woven but faded hung from the walls and the gilt moldings were flaking and peeling. It was a dismal sight, one of lost dreams and power, but it was the white ceramic cat that caught and held Sarah's attention. It was the same cat that had sat in Ron Drummond's office.

As they passed by it, Ronan let his hand linger across its smooth head.

'Good evening, Morwenna. How good of you to join us.' At Sarah's startled expression, he smiled. 'Oh, yes, it's her. So much easier to keep an eye on her this way, don't you agree?'

'It's sadistic.' Sarah stated.

'And your idea of leaving her as cat was compassionate?' He asked.

'At least she was alive.'

'She's alive now. She's just trapped within a bit of ceramic. Sort of like that genie in the bottle. But never fear, darling. I fully intend to release her. She and your husband will be providing the entertainment for the evening, and tomorrow…well, that's up to you, isn't it?'

Sarah felt sickness rise in her throat as Ronan seated her. What depravity did this man have planned for the evening? His constant need to taunt and torment repelled her. He was like a little boy that pulled wings off flies. How could her father have ever trusted this man?

A few minutes later Jareth was escorted into the room by one of the boar-like creatures and shoved toward a seat with the handle of the battle ax. He gave the guard a cold glare before seating himself at the table. His eyes instantly went to Sarah, and she could see the concern, the frustration in them.

'Well,' Ronan said from the head of the table, 'now that we're all present, let's start the festivities.' His eyes slid to Jareth. 'It's been reported to me that you're quite a good singer. Perhaps you'd like to start this merry little gathering with a song?'

'I only sing when I feel like it.' Jareth told him flatly. 'And strangely enough, I don't feel like it.'

'Come now, I insist.'

'I don't perform like a trained bear.'

'Don't you?'

The two men glared at each other, and then Jareth suddenly stood up and walked over to a grand piano sitting at one end of the dining room. It was an unusual spot for a piano, but Sarah assumed that Ronan, anticipating what he was going to do that evening, must have had it placed there on purpose. She watched as Jareth paused between the keyboard and bench. He must have been fighting the invisible force that had led him there for when he did finally sit down he landed with a hard bang, scattering sheet music like chicken feathers.

His hands landed on the keyboard, and he began to play, his voice eventually joining in.

'Shall we dance, darling?' Ronan asked, standing up and holding out his hand.

'I'd rather not.'

'I would prefer not to force you.'

'Why not? You seem to enjoy forcing people to do your will.'

That was the wrong thing to say. She found herself jerked to her feet and thrown into Ronan's arms like a rag doll.

To hear Jareth's voice as it had sang to her during the masquerade and beneath the fountain, and to dance with someone else, someone loathsome to her, nearly brought tears to her eyes. It must have been painful for Jareth as well for his voice was huskier than usual, breaking now and then, as the couple spun slowly about the floor. It was with relief that when the song ended, Ronan allowed them to return to their seats.

Obviously he had grown bored with this particular torment and was looking for something new and fresh. He found it.

'It's a shame that Morwenna's missing all this fun.' Ronan murmured, once again at the head of the table. 'Now would be a good time to let her out of her bottle, don't you think?'

Taking the Elfstone out of his pocket, he placed it on the table before him. It glowed, pulsing with life. He closed his eyes as though channeling something and then opened them. With a snap of his fingers, Morwenna suddenly appeared on the chair in front of the plate where the ceramic cat had been sitting. She blinked as though coming out of a dream and then turned to Ronan with an ugly sneer.

'You dirty, rotten…'

'Temper, temper, darling.' He said. 'Can't you see we have guests?'

'I don't care about your damn guests!' She spat. 'We had a deal!'

'Come now, don't tell me that you honestly believed you could trust a traitor?' He watched the sneer turned into a sullen frown. 'Ah, I understand. You thought you could betray me before I betrayed you. How amusing.' He leaned back in his chair, looking from Jareth to Sarah. 'Isn't that amusing?'

Morwenna suddenly became aware of the other two people. 'What are _they_ doing here?'

'Like you, they are my honored guests.'

'You mean prisoners, don't you?'

Ronan waved his hand negligently. 'You say 'oyster', I say 'eryster'.'

There was a low growl, and Morwenna was grabbing the knife lying beside her plate and rushing at Ronan like a madwoman. She never reached her target. Just as quickly as she'd jumped up, she came to an abrupt halt as if hitting an invisible wall. Her expression turned from bewilderment to outright fear as she slowly turned the knife upon herself. It was clear from the way her muscles shook and strained that she was fighting desperately to resist the force controlling her.

Sarah glanced at Ronan, noting his delighted smile. He was enjoying himself, and it sickened her. The man was sadistic, truly sick. _Paul what's-his-name would have field day when this guy's brain_, she thought, her eyes going back to Morwenna. Suddenly the woman's arm shot upwards, and Sarah closed her eyes has the blade came slamming downwards. But, at the last moment, it missed, nearly spinning her around.

Then she was moving toward Jareth, being dragged along by the hand that held the knife. Sarah watched in horror as she came up behind his chair and placed the knife against his throat. Once again, Morwenna was fighting, her muscles shaking, a fine sweat breaking out on her forehead. Jareth sat as still as stone, staring at Ronan with hard, cold eyes. He refused to show his tormentor any fear.

'Come now, Morwenna,' Ronan finally said, 'I thought your dearest desire was to cut Jareth's throat. Don't tell me you're having second thoughts now that I've went to all this trouble to arrange your revenge for you.'

'Keep…your…damn arrangements…to yourself.' She panted. 'I'll get my revenge…in my time…and my way.'

'Your ingratitude is astounding.' Ronan noted dryly. 'However, I must insist that you stick with the original plan.'

Sarah watched as Morwenna began to lose the battle. The knife cut into Jareth's neck, leaving a line of blood. She couldn't stand it any longer.

'Stop it!' She yelled, turning to Ronan. 'Stop it right now!'

His eyes remained on his two victims. 'You know the price for stopping it.'

'Ok. Fine.' She snapped. 'I'll marry you.'

'Sarah, don't…' Jareth began but was instantly rendered silent, his mouth clamped shut much as Hoggle's had been.

'The lady has made her choice.' Ronan declared with a smile.

Morwenna collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily, the knife on the floor by her feet.

'Guards, take these two back to the dungeon.' Ronan ordered. 'And tell the steward that we're ready for our dinner now.'

***SCENE CHANGE***

'Just hold still, will ya?' Hoggle growled, grabbing for the window ledge.

'You're standing on my head.' Sir Didymus cried.

'Whining's becoming a habit with you, ain't it?'

'I'm not whining. I'm merely pointing out…' his words were muffled by a foot landing in his mouth as Hoggle made a lunge for the ledge.

His fingers touched the rough stone and held tight. Grunting and grumbling, he pulled himself up and over. Then he reached down and helped Didymus up and over as well. They stood for a moment in the corridor, listening. To their dismay they heard footsteps, lots of footsteps. _Leave it to them to pick a main thoroughfare_, Hoggle thought as they scrambled for cover.

'In here.' He hissed, holding open the lid to a large oak chest resting against one wall.

They clamored inside but left the lid open just enough to see who passed by. To their surprise, Jareth came walking toward them, followed by Morwenna and then two guards with battle axes. As soon as they passed out of sight, the two were out of the chest.

'They've got the king.' Didymus said. 'Where could they be taking him?'

'Give you five to one it's the dungeon.' Hoggle said.

Didymus's brow pulled together in a frown. 'I don't gamble.'

'It's just an expression. You know, an _expression_...' When Didymus continued to stare at him blankly, he muttered. 'Oh, never mind. Come on. Looks like Jareth's got himself in a real pickle.'

'Pickle?' Didymus echoed. 'What do pickles have to do with anything?'

'Oh, never mind!'

***SCENE CHANGE***

'Will you sit down?' Morwenna said irritably from her cell. 'It doesn't do any good to pace like that. It's like being locked up with a bloody metronome.'

Jareth stopped in mid-stride to glare at her. 'We wouldn't _be _locked up if it hadn't been for your insatiable appetite for conquest. If you'd stayed in your Wood with that bloody stone, none of this would have happened.'

'If I hadn't put that sleeping spell on the brat, your _Beloved_ wouldn't have called for you, and you'd still be moping around your castle like some mooncalf so you've got no reason to complain.'

'You try to kill me and take my kingdom, and I don't have a reason to complain?' Jareth demanded, his expression incredulous. The cheek of the woman!

'I didn't kill you tonight.' Morwenna pointed out. 'And I could have, you know. I could have cut your throat very easily.'

'Why didn't you?'

'Because I didn't want to give that toad the satisfaction.' Morwenna's hands curled into fists. 'When I get out of here, I'm going to tear his heart out with my bare hands.'

'And what makes you think you're going to get out of here?' Jareth asked with the lift of one pale brow. 'You don't seriously think he's going to let either one of us live, do you?'

There was a short silence and then Morwenna said sullenly. 'Knowing Ronan, there'll be a double execution at dawn.'

'Precisely.' Jareth said grimly. 'Which means we have to get out of here.'

'You're the one with the magic gloves.'

'They don't work here.'

'Such a tragedy.'

Jareth was about to tell her that it would be a tragedy, _hers_, if they didn't get out of there when a scuffling noise caught his attention. 'Who's there?'

Hoggle's large nose appeared around the corner of the wall followed by Sir Didymus's whiskered one. Never had Jareth been so relieved that his orders had been disobeyed. It was also the first time, and probably the last, that he'd ever admit to being overjoyed at seeing Hoggle's homely face. The daft fox's wasn't too bad either.

'Hoggle,' he ordered, using the dwarf's real name for the first time, 'get your bum over here and let me out.'

'Hold your pants on. Hold your pants on.' Hoggle grumbled, shoving an iron key into the lock.

'Where'd you get the keys?' Jareth asked, stepping through the open door.

'Off the guard. We clobbered him.'

'I knew you'd come in useful some day.' Jareth said, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth as he stared down at the dwarf. 'Hoggle, you deserve a promotion. How does Prince of the Dark Wood sound?'

'Terrible.'

'Then what do you want?'

Hoggle thought for a moment. 'To go back to spraying faeries in the labyrinth at twenty bob a head.'

'Twenty?' Jareth exclaimed indignantly. 'That's highway robbery.'

'Take it or leave it.'

'I'll think about it.'

'Fair enough.' Hoggle said before asking. 'Where's Sarah?'

'Somewhere in the castle.'

'Then shouldn't we be looking for her instead of negotiating wages increases?'

'You took the words right out of my mouth.'

'Wait!' Morwenna cried as the group for the door leading out of the dungeon. 'Don't leave me here!'

Jareth stopped and looked back at her. 'Give me one good reason why I shouldn't. You've attempted to kill me and take my kingdom and then plotted with that bastard upstairs to get that rock back so you could try it all over again. With a track record like that I'd be a bloody fool to let you out.'

'I didn't kill you tonight.' She pointed out.. 'I could have, and I didn't. Doesn't that count for something?'

Jareth studied her silently for a moment, his eyes narrowed. There was no possibility that he'd ever trust Morwenna, but there was at least one area in which she could provide useful. There was that one piece of the puzzle that still eluded him. For Sarah's benefit, he was willing risk it.

'Come on, Jareth.' Hoggle urged. 'Leave her. She ain't nothing but trouble.'

'I'd have to agree with Governor Hoggle.' Didymus ventured forth. 'She's proven herself the vilest of adversaries.'

Jareth ignored both of them. He looked at Morwenna. 'I'll take you with us if you'll tell me what I want to know.'

'What?' She said eagerly.

'How did you come in possession of Meara's ring?'

Her eagerness died a quick death. She stared at Jareth, her expression mutinous. He shrugged and made to turn away.

'Alright!' She called out. 'Alright, I'll tell you!'

He turned back and waited.

'We found Meara half dead in the Wood.' Morwenna said gruffly. 'Somehow she'd escaped. She was riding one of the elf horses, one of the white ones with the rainbow mane, but she was fatally wounded, and there was nothing we could do but make her comfortable until her time came. Her pain was great, even with the potion mother gave her, and she kept crying out for the child, talking as though she were still alive. We though her delirious. She lingered for two days, and then right before she died, she removed the ring from her finger. Taking my hand in hers, she placed the ring on my palm and then closed both of our hands around it. She looked at me with those green eyes of hers and said 'give it to the child, give it to Aibhlinn'. And then she died. We buried her in the Wood, and later on, after the battle, the elves brought us Ciarán body. I don't know how they knew, but they did. So we buried them together, and mother placed an eternal flame over their grave as a reminder of their love.' She glared at Jareth. 'So you see we're not as heartless as you believe us to be.'

There was a long silence and then Jareth said quietly. 'But you kept the ring for yourself.' 'Why not?' Morwenna retorted. 'We, like everyone else, believed the child to be lost. What were we supposed to do with it? We knew Ronan wanted it. What better way to revenge the Elf King and his queen than to keep it from their murderer? And if we should profit in the meantime, what of it?'

'Yes,' Jareth said wearily, 'what of it?' He glanced at Hoggle. 'Release her.'

'But…'

'Release her.' He snapped.

Hoggle reluctantly obeyed, and Morwenna for the first time in nearly three years was free. Immediately she bolted, pushing aside Hoggle and Didymus and disappearing through the dungeon door.

'Now you've gone and done it.' Hoggle grumbled. 'She'll be bringing the whole blooming castle down on our heads.'

***SCENE CHANGE***

Sarah was just climbing out the window of her room when the door opened. She reluctantly turned expecting to see Ronan and was overwhelmed with joy when Jareth strode into the room…once again as if he owned it. Even as a prisoner he still managed to look as though he was king of the castle.

Scrambling off the window ledge, she rushed across the room, throwing herself into his arms. He nearly crushed the air out of her lungs, but she didn't mind. The closer she was to him, the better. She smiled, lifting her face for his kisses, which he placed everywhere and anywhere.

'Jareth!' She finally managed, pulling away from him slightly. 'How did you get out?'

'Your friends have been disobeying orders again.'

'How…'

'There's no time for that, my dove.' He told her, taking her hand and leading her out into the hallway where Hoggle and Didymus stood guard. 'We've got to get out of here.'

'Yes, I know.' She said as they hustled her down the dark corridor. 'But why…'

'Jareth went and let that witch out.' Hoggle declared like a little boy tattling on his older sibling.

Sarah glanced at Jareth. 'Why in the world would you do that?'

'Calculated risk. She had something I wanted.'

The thought of Morwenna having something Jareth wanted sent a frizzle of jealousy coursing down Sarah's spine, but she ignored it as they ran down the corridor. Now was not the time to demand an explanation. _Now was definitely not the time_, she told herself as sounds of the castle stirring to life could be heard.

They were running upwards, not downwards as she would have expected. Where the hell were they going? Visions of being trapped on a turret like Dorothy and her friends did not give her a warm fuzzy feeling. She doubted water would work on Ronan.

'Where are we going?' She finally demanded.

'To the top of the north turret.' Jareth said over his shoulder.

'Why? What are we going to do? Threaten to jump?'

'I've got a squad of monkeys coming to pick us up.' Hoggle gasped out.

As usual his short legs could not keep up with their long ones. As if they'd read each other's minds, Jareth and Sarah took him by the arms and dragged him between them up the stairs with Sir Didymus bringing up the rear. Behind them, the sound of running footsteps mixed with guttural yells became louder.

A thick door stood at the top of the stairs. They burst through it. Cool night air greeted them. They were on the wall walk and before them was the north turret. They started toward it and then stopped. A shadow had detached itself from the wall and stood in their path.

'Leaving without saying goodbye?' Ronan asked. 'And after I've been such a gracious host. I'm disappointed in you.'

'Get out of our way.' Jareth said.

'Your arrogance amazes me.' Ronan declared. 'It really does. You have no power here yet you order me about like I was one of your goblins. You are not king here. I'm Lord of the Elfstone Vale, and I have the power to make you jump off these very walls if I so desire.'

As if to prove his point, Jareth suddenly went crashing against the parapet.

'Stop it!' Sarah yelled.

Ronan's eyes slid to her. 'As time goes on, you're becoming less and less attractive to me. In fact, I'm leaning toward my first inclination, which was to _kill_ the Elfstone heir just as I did her father. I'm such a fickle fellow, you know.'

And with that Sarah joined Jareth, flattened up against the parapet like a butterfly stuck to a display board.

Didymus pulled out his sword and plowed forward, yelling, _'CHARGE!'_

'Oh hell.' Hoggle muttered and followed him.

They, too, found themselves pressed up against the wall.

Ronan laughed like a madman. _He sounded just like Vince Price in 'Thriller'_, Sarah thought, her cheek pressed against the hard stone.

'See how easy it is?' He chortled. 'You're helpless against my power, against the power of the Elfstone. You are mine to do with as I wish. Like dolls. Like living, breathing dolls. If I want you to dance, you'll dance. If I want you to sing, you'll sing. If I want you to throw yourself from this wall, you'll do it because my power is absolute. No one can stop me. _No one!_'

He laughed once again, wildly, triumphantly, and then another noise could be heard. It was the noise of someone screaming furiously, and then a body flew out of the darkness, hurling itself onto Ronan. From the corner of her eye, Sarah saw the flash of a blade, and then she heard a dull thud as the blade made contact with flesh. Ronan's scream joined Morwenna's, and suddenly they were free.

They should have run, but they didn't. They just stood, mesmerized by the struggle going on before them. Morwenna's knife had found its mark but not where she'd planned. It hadn't killed him. Instead it had just immobilized his one arm, leaving him the use of the rest of his body to fight off Morwenna's continued attack.

And she did attack. She scratched and clawed at him, using her nails on his face and neck. He seemed to have forgotten the power he'd just been glorying in for he never once stopped her. Instead he fought her tooth and nail just as she fought him. It was like watching two panthers go at it, their furious screams filling the air as they bit and clawed at one another. Finally, just when Sarah thought she'd go mad from the violence of it, their struggle took them over the wall and down into the darkness below.

'Oh, my God!' She cried, looking over the side. 'Are they dead?'

'Best not to wait and find out.' Jareth told her grimly.

He took her arm, urging her toward the turret. She resisted for a moment, her eyes on the empty spot where she'd last seen them, but then let Jareth lead her away. It had happened so fast. It was hard to believe that they were gone…dead. It was hard to believe that just like that it was over.

'I thought you said they'd be here.' Jareth said, turning on Hoggle as soon as they entered the north turret and found no monkeys waiting for them.

'They're supposed to be here.' Hoggle said, frowning. 'I told them to be here.'

'Then where are they?'

'How am I supposed to know?' Hoggle growled. 'Do I look like a blooming monkey?'

'You hired them.' Jareth accused.

'I didn't hire them.' Hoggle denied. 'They were already on contract. How was I to know they can't tell time?'

'That's your problem, not mine.'

'Oh, so now it's my fault, is it?' Hoggle demanded, his eyebrow bristling. 'If it hadn't been for me, you'd still be pacing a hole in that dungeon.'

'Ah, guys,' Sarah interrupted, taking a step backwards, 'now is not the time to argue.'

'Err, yes,' Sir Didymus added, his voice quavering a bit, 'I would have to agree with milady. _Now_ is not the time.'

Jareth glanced up, his eyes narrowing. 'Why not?'

Sarah lifted her arm, pointing at something behind him. 'Because _that_ is a much bigger problem than a few missing monkeys.'

Jareth and Hoggle both turned and found themselves staring into the face of an enormous black dragon. It towered over them by a good seven feet, and fire and smoke billowed out of its jaws. The dragon grinned at them, showing sharp, pointy teeth.

'Jumping Jupiter!' Hoggle exclaimed. 'Did you know he could do that?'

'No,' Jareth said grimly, 'but I should have expected it with a name like Dragonheart.'

'It's the dragon in my dream.' Sarah whispered.

The dragon must have heard her for it laughed, a deep, booming laugh that sounded like a cracking fire. Flames shot out of its nostrils, and it glared down at them with evil, red eyes. \ 'Yesssssss,' it hissed, '_I _was at the castle gate. _I _led the black army. _I_ took the Elfstone Vale for myself. And now I'm going to remove the last thing standing in my way. I'm going to destroy the Elfstone heir just as I destroyed her father.'

They watched as the dragon reared back, laughing to itself just as Ronan had laughed to himself on more than on occasion. The guards who had finally managed to find their way onto the wall walk saw the dragon and immediately went back the way they came, nearly stumbling over themselves in their haste.

Jareth turned to Didymus. 'Give me your sword.'

'My liege,' the fox cried, 'I must protest. A sword is a knight's…'

_'Give it to me!'_ Jareth roared.

Didymus jumped, fumbling with the scabbard. 'Err…here!'

Jareth took the sword, held it out in front of him and recite. 'Sword of truth, fly swift and sure that evil die and good endure.'

'Hey,' Sarah exclaimed, 'that's the spell Flora uses in Disney's Sleeping Beauty.'

'Where the bog do you think she got it from?' Jareth muttered, leaning back and hurling the sword with all his might at the dragon.

It flew end over end, its shiny metal flashing in the red light provided by the dragon's fire. Sarah closed her eyes, saying a little prayer. _Please, God, please, let it strike true!_ A terrific scream followed, and she opened her eyes. The dragon was swaying, its hands clawing at the sword sticking out of its chest. Then it was falling…falling…and everything was quiet.

***SCENE CHANGE***

Later they found Ronan lying near the castle wall. The sword had passed through his back, pinning him to the ground like a bug in a high school science project. Sarah wished she could feel pity, but she didn't.

'Why didn't the Elfstone protect him?' She asked, looking over at Jareth who stood beside her in the gloom.

'It had to choose.' Jareth said. 'It had to decide whether it protected the usurper or the Elfstone heir. The choice was obvious. Its loyalty would always remain with the Elf Kings and their heirs. So it did nothing.'

'In other words, it sat on the sidelines.'

He looked at her. 'I will never understand these aboveground euphemisms.'

'That's because you don't spend enough time there.'

She turned to walk away and then stopped, her eyes falling on the body of the woman lying nearby, her silver-white hair spread out about her like the wings of some exotic bird. There was something pathetic about the sight that pulled at her heart strings. Morwenna had been their enemy. She had tried to kill Jareth and take his kingdom yet in the end she had saved them. Perhaps that hadn't been her intention, but she'd done so all the same and lost her own life in the struggle.

_Such a pity_, she thought, stooping down to push the tangled hair to one side. Her hand brushed against the woman's cheek, and she paused. It was warm. She felt for a pulse.

'Jareth,' she called, 'Morwenna's still alive.'

He joined her and stood staring down at them, his expression unreadable in the shadows. Finally he said. 'It's been said that the Elfstone can heal.'

She glanced up at him. 'You want me to heal her? After all she's done to us?'

'She saved our lives.' He said simply. 'At least temporarily.'

'Because she wanted to kill him more than she wanted to kill us.'

There was a long silence and then Jareth said. 'When she tells you what she told me, you will be glad that you spared her life.'

Sarah stared up at him. She'd never seen this side of him. It was as though a rough edge in his soul had been smoothed, releasing a kinder Goblin King from his prison.

'Mercy, Jareth?' She asked softly. 'I didn't know that was allowed in the Goblin Kingdom.'

'It wasn't.' He said with a sigh. 'But Aldrich no longer reigns. I do, and I've learned more in the last few days than I have in nearly two centuries of living.' He stooped down so that they were eye to eye. Reaching out a hand, he touched her cheek. 'You've been a good influence on me. Of course, don't get any ideas that I'm going to stop kicking goblins. They expect it, you know.'

Sarah smiled, remembering what Ciarán had said to Meara. _Perhaps Aibhlinn can lead him into more pleasing ways._

'Ok.' She said, getting to her feet. 'I'll do it. But I'm not promising anything. I don't know the first thing about using an Elfstone.'

Jareth had gotten up too. She watched as he went over to Ronan's body, stooping down to rifle through the man's pockets. He returned, carrying something in his hand. Taking hers, he placed the Elfstone on her palm.

'I suspect the Elfstone will show you what to do.'

***SCENE CHANGE***

Sarah woke with a start. She stared up at the unfamiliar bed hangings, wondering where she was, and then she remembered. They were in the Elfstone castle. With Ronan dead, his motley collection of guards had wasted no time 'skedaddling' as Hoggle had put it, leaving them in possession of the castle and surrounding city. Rather than make the tiring journey back to the Goblin City, they had stayed. Besides, Morwenna was still too injured to move.

What had awakened her? Not a dream. That night her mind had been blissfully peaceful. So what was it? Slipping out of the bed, she put on a robe and slippers, picked up a firepot and let herself out of the room. She didn't know where she was going. She just walked and let her instincts guide her.

She passed the room where Morwenna lay. Then she passed the rooms occupied by Didymus and Hoggle before taking the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, she paused and then turned to the left, following another passage that led her to another stairway, which led further downwards.

The stairway ended in a large circular room lined with tapestries. In the middle of the room sat an apple green stone, much larger than the one upstairs. It was the size of a basketball, perfectly smooth, and glowed warmly in the darkness. She walked toward it, drawn by its pulsing light, which made the shadows on the walls dance and flicker like firelight.

As she stared down at it, a peace like she'd never known before settled over her. She lifted her hands, placing them onto the smooth surface, and suddenly images began flowing through her mind, images of her parents when they were young, images of the storm that brought Mary Kate to the underground, images of their meeting and subsequent courtship and marriage. And then other images came, images of people she didn't know. It filled her with a sense of wonder, a sense of belonging. _She was home._

And that was where Jareth found her several hours later.

'This wandering in the middle of the night is becoming quite a habit with you.' He said, joining her in front of the stone.

She looked up at him. 'This will be the last time. The Elfstone has told me what it wanted me to know.'

'Which was?'

'Who I am and where I come from. The Elves of the Vale were a fine and noble people.'

'And they will be again.'

'What do you mean?'

'When the word gets out that Ronan is dead, and the Elfstone Princess reigns in the Vale, the elves will return.'

'But the Princess doesn't reign in the Vale. She's reigns in the Goblin City.'

Jareth stared at the stone for a few long minutes before saying. 'I think it could be arranged for us to split our time between the two kingdoms. Sir Didymus could replace Hoggle in the Dark Wood, and Hoggle could fill in for us when we're here. He's been pestering me for months to return to the labyrinth. Prefers spraying faeries, he claims. I'll agree to him returning if he'll agree to act as governor when we're gone.'

A smile teased at Sarah's lips. 'I think that's the first time you've called them by their proper names.'

'Did I?'

'Yes, you did.'

'Then I shall have to make a note of it so it doesn't happen again.'

Sarah laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist. 'Jareth, you're priceless.'

'No,' he said, tilting her face up and looking down at her with indulgent eyes, '_you're_ the one that's priceless.'

Her laughter faded as she stared up at him. 'Jareth, I'm sorry that I ran away like that. I knew what you were telling me was the truth, but I guess I went into overload or something. To find out that the people I thought were my parents for years weren't really my parents, and then to find out that my real parents came from here, well, it was…overwhelming. I…I panicked.'

'Hush.' He murmured. 'Don't speak of it. You're where you belong and that's all that matters.'

'And now peace can come to the underground, right?'

'According the stars, yes.'

'You do realize, don't you, that will all these kingdoms to administrate, we're going to have to get busy on that Goblin Prince or Princess, We're running out of governors.'

'Sarah,' he said, concern creeping into his expression, 'remember what I told you. An heir has never been born…'

'To a Goblin King.' She finished for him. 'I know, and that's ok. But there's no harm in trying, is there?'

'No,' he agreed, a smile lifting the corner of his mouth, 'there's no harm in trying.'


	10. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER NINE**

_Loose Ends_

'This isn't Chicago.' Sarah said as they stood on the corner of a deserted intersection. She watched as a tumbleweed rolled by followed by a barking dog.

'I told you the gloves aren't always accurate here.' Jareth retorted.

'Maybe we should just catch a plane like I suggested when we were in that cow pasture in Vermont.' She saw him scowl. 'Not that I mind taking a tour of the United States, it's very educational, it really is, but we are on a timetable. Toby's play is tomorrow night, and we promised we'd be there.'

'_You_ promised to be there.'

'He specifically asked for you to be there too.'

'I detest Shakespeare.'

'Is that why we keep popping in and out of the United States? Delay tactics?'

There was a low throated growl and suddenly they were standing on another street corner. Unlike the other one, this one was busy. People brushed by them and horns honked.

Sarah glanced around. 'I think you got it right this time. There's the L. Come on. It'll take us where we want to go.'

Forty five minutes later they were standing outside the door of Sarah's old apartment. Jareth rapped on the door. No answer. He rapped again, harder this time. Still no answer.

'Maybe she's out.' Sarah suggested.

He ignored her. 'Open up, Groucho! I know you're in there.'

'Jareth,' Sarah protested, casting a worried glance at the surrounding doors, 'she's probably out.'

'She's in there.' Jareth told her.

'How could you possibly know that?'

'When you've lived with goblins as long as I have, you can smell them.'

Sarah sniffed the air. 'I don't smell anything.'

'It's an acquired scent.' He hammered on the door once again. 'Open up or you're next assignment will be in the black hole of Calcutta.'

The door opened, showing a green eye. 'What do you want?'

'Is that any way to answer your king?' Jareth demanded, outraged.

'I ain't got a king no more.' The eye answered.

'Have you forgotten who gave you that body you're living in right now?' Jareth asked, his voice as deadly as a viper. 'I gave it to you, and I can take back again.'

There was a long silence and then the door opened and a sullen Sarah stood to one side, allowing them to enter.

'This place is a pig sty.' The real Sarah exclaimed, gazing about the apartment with something akin to horror. 'It looks like the throne room before we had the cleaners in.'

'She's a goblin.' Jareth said as though that explained everything.

Sarah gasped when she saw the large, grape-colored stain on the sofa. 'This sofa cost me a week's wages, and now it's ruined!'

Jareth ignored her and turned to the other Sarah. 'It's come to my attention that you're planning on marrying a human.'

'What of it?'

'On page 108 of your goblin handbook it states that goblins on assignment in the aboveground are prohibiting from marrying humans.'

'Can't read.'

Jareth sighed as though he'd heard that excuse before. 'Goblins on assignment are given special training, which includes remedial reading.'

Grotto was not ready to throw in the towel. 'I ain't a goblin no more. I'm Sarah Williams.'

'_I'm_ Sarah Williams.' Sarah retorted. 'And I don't particularly care for what you've done to my apartment or,' she ran her eyes over the woman's slovenly appearance, 'my body.'

'So sue me.' Grotto said with a shrug.

Sarah looked at Jareth. 'Is there anything in your handbook about insubordination?'

'I believe so.' Jareth allowed. 'Something to do with the bog and hanging by one's thumbs for a fortnight. But, seeing as how it's _your_ body and the bog is not readily accessible, I give you permission to discipline our goblin as you think best.'

Sarah wasted no time. With a wave of her hand, Sarah was no longer Sarah. She was a squat green goblin with long, pointy ears and beady black eyes.

Suddenly a knock sounded on the door, and then Paul's voice was heard calling out, 'Sarah, sweetheart, you home?'

'Oh, hell.' She muttered. 'Get in the closet.'

Jareth looked down his nose at her. 'Goblin King's do not…'

'I know, I know, hide in closets.' She finished for him. 'Then get in the bedroom.'

'Do you really want him to find me in the bedroom?'

'Ok. The bathroom.'

She hustled Jareth and Grotto into the bathroom and closed the door. Then she went to answer Paul's knock.

Forty minutes later Jareth was becoming impatient. He had only allowed her to shove him into the bathroom because he had agreed to allow her to get rid of the fiancé. He had had his doubts, but she had wanted to 'let Paul down easy' since it wasn't his fault he'd fallen in love with a goblin. To Jareth it had sounded like a bunch of nonsense, but indulgent slave that he was, he had agreed. Now he was having second thoughts.

'They've been out there for forty five minutes.' He muttered. 'How long does it take to tell this toad to bugger off?'

'Beats me.' Grotto said. 'I'm just a goblin.'

Jareth's impatience finally won out. 'Hand me those towels.'

'Why?'

'Just do it.' Jareth snapped.

'Paul,' Sarah was saying, 'there's something I'd like to talk to you about.'

Jareth frowned. She'd been out there for fifty two minutes, and she _still _hadn't gotten around to telling the toad to take a hike? Knowing that he didn't feel a bit guilty for what he did next. She obviously needed his help.

'Sarah, love, have we got any more…' he stopped as though surprised to see someone in the living room with her. 'I didn't know we had company. You should have said something. I would have put something on.'

Sarah stared at Jareth, eyes wide, mouth open. He wore the trousers he'd come in with, but somehow he'd lost everything else. He'd even removed his gloves. Around his neck hung a towel while he used another to dry his damp hair. He looked like a man who'd just gotten out of the shower after an afternoon of…Sarah felt heat flood her face. What in the world did he think he was doing? They had agreed that _she_ would handle Paul.

'Who…are…you?' Paul asked.

He looked like a stricken rabbit, Jareth thought with some satisfaction. This shouldn't be too difficult. He looked like the suggestible type. Probably came from dabbling in other people's minds.

'I'm Sarah's husband. Jareth King.' He offered a hand.

'Husband!' Paul squeaked, ignoring the hand. 'When did this happen?'

'Three years ago, wasn't it, love?' Jareth asked, looking at Sarah, his eyes ordering her to play along.

Sarah would have dearly loved to hang him out to dry just then, but she had no idea how to explain all this to Paul if she did. So she played along.

'Three years seems about right.' She agreed.

'But,' Paul exclaimed, 'we've been engaged for two months!'

'You must be mistaken.' Jareth told him, coming around the sofa and sitting down beside Sarah. 'Are you sure you didn't just imagine it? Oftentimes we want something so badly that we ended up imaging it.'

'She's wearing my ring!' Paul insisted. 'You don't _imagine_ a ring!'

Jareth picked up Sarah hand, examining it closely. 'Looks like the one I gave her. Perhaps you'd care to have to look for yourself. Show him your hand, love.'

Sarah held out her hand for Paul's inspection. The man frowned, running a hand through his perfect hair. He left several cowlicks behind.

'I don't understand.' He muttered. 'I gave it to her on Valentine's Day.'

Sarah watched as Jareth pulled a gold coin from his pocket and began rolling it back and forth across his fingers. It flashed rapidly as it had in the Dark Wood when she'd first seen him as Stryker. She looked quickly away, knowing Jareth's little tricks. Paul, however, seemed fascinated with the sight.

'I know you and Sarah dated several years ago.' Jareth was saying, his voice low and compelling. 'Is it possible that you just imagined an engagement? Being a psychologist, I'm sure you're aware of how the mind can deceive, how it can play tricks on us. Dreams sometimes become reality, don't they?'

Paul's eyelids were beginning to droop. 'I've heard of such things, but dreams aren't a specialty of mine.'

Jareth smiled. 'Such a pity.'

The coin flashed and whirled.

'I'm…' Paul rubbed his forehead, 'I'm not feeling…quite well. I think I ought to go home.'

'Excellent idea.' Jareth agreed. 'Go home, get some sleep and when you wake up, this will all be a dream. _Just…a….dream_.'

As soon as the door closed behind him, Sarah whirled on Jareth. 'What do you think you're doing? We agreed that _I _would handle him.'

'You had fifty two minutes to _handle_ him,' Jareth said, pocketing the coin, 'and you were still _handling_ him when I walked in. So I helped things along a bit. After all, we're on a timetable, remember?'

'I still think it would have been better to let him down easy.' She insisted.

'He will be 'let down easy'.' Jareth replied. 'It'll all be a dream to him.' He walked over to her, taking her into his arms. '_Think but this and all is mended, that you have but slumber'd here while these visions did appear.'_

She looked up at him, her eyes reproachful. 'I thought you detested Shakespeare.'

'I do, but once in a while, he did manage to say something worthwhile.'

***SCENE CHANGE***

She had no idea that the Dark Wood held such a beautiful place as this. It was a small glade, tucked deep in the Wood, so deep that only someone familiar with the Wood would know of its existence. The grass was like a thick carpet spreading out soft and green in every direction, and the trees, so oppressive during their walk there, had thinned, letting in soft light that dappled everything with drops of gold.

'Their grave in over there.' Morwenna said, pointing a robed arm in the direction of a white stone pillar. 'My mother chose the spot.' She paused and then added almost apologetically. 'She was a bit of a romantic.'

Sarah looked at Jareth who nodded. He knew she wanted to go by herself.

The grave when she reached it was larger than she'd expected. Below the pillar was a long white slab of stone with their names carved into it: _Ciarán, King of Elfstone Vale and Meara, his Beloved Queen._ A flame burnt at the head of the slab, which according to Morwenna would burn forever in remembrance of their great love.

She'd never known them, but standing there, she was suddenly overcome with emotion and dropped to her knees, weeping softly. _You were right, Mother,_ she thought, _we did have so very little time together._ _But because of you, the Elfstone Princess survived, and I've returned to the land of my birth, to reign side by side with the Goblin King as the stars foretold. So, you see, Father was right. The stars can be trusted._

When she was finished, she returned to Morwenna and Jareth. They were standing in the same spot where she'd left them, looking like two pale statues.

She looked at Morwenna. 'Thank you for what you and your mother did for them.'

Morwenna inclined her head. She was obviously not used to being thanked. Then she looked at Jareth. 'I'm ready.'

Jareth lifted his hand, and a crystal appeared.

'You're sure you'd rather do this than go to the aboveground?' He asked her.

'I'm sure.' Morwenna said, her eyes and therefore her thoughts concealed behind the hood of her robe. 'I belong to this world, not the other.'

'Very well.'

The crystal enlarged until it was wide enough and tall enough to encompass Morwenna completely. It hovered around her, engulfing her, and then it began to shrink until it was once again its original size. Inside the crystal, they could see Morwenna, her beautiful face calm and resigned. Jareth lifted the globe and blew softly upon it. Slowly it drifted away.

'Is she doing the right thing?' Sarah asked, watching the crystal float further and further away.

'Yes.' Jareth said without hesitation. 'The land beyond the sea was made for people like her. It is a world of unexplored lands and endless opportunity. A woman of Morwenna's ambition will have no trouble carving out a kingdom for herself.'

'You were right.' Sarah said as they started back through the Wood. 'I am glad that I spared her life. If nothing else for the kindness she and her mother showed my parents. You know, I can help but think she might have turned out differently if…well, if whatever happened to make her what she is hadn't happened.' She glanced at Jareth. 'Does that make sense?'

A smile teased the corner of his mouth. 'Yes, my dove, it makes perfect sense.'


	11. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

_Long Awaited Child_

Sarah stood at the nursery window, watching the blonde-haired young man stride across the ward of the castle as if he owned it. _That's a nice looking one,_ she thought, twisting the ring on her finger absently. Light from the window made its green depths shimmer brilliantly, but its wearer didn't notice. Her attention remained on the young man. Jareth doing the right thing, wasn't he?

She turned slightly and looked at the child sleeping in the crib carved with faeries and unicorns, her rosy cheek resting against a stuffed rabbit. So young, so innocent, so unaware that her father had just sent another perspective husband packing. And this one was young and attractive. Would there be any left by the time she was sixteen?

She heard a footstep behind her and then hands upon her shoulders. She leaned back against her husband with a sigh.

'It's done.' He told her.

'Oh?'

'I've told the twit to bugger off.'

'Do you think that wise? He may not come back.'

'And good riddance, if you ask me. He was arrogant and much too sure of himself.'

'Some people would say those are desirable traits in a perspective husband.'

Jareth chose to ignore her. Instead he said, somewhat indignantly. 'That's the fifth request for Alanna's hand in the last month. The child's only one year old. I had no idea that the underground was so full of adventurers and charlatans. I shall have to petition the High King about it immediately. The place needs to be cleaned up.'

'Isn't it a good thing my father didn't share your opinion?'

Jareth didn't even have the grace to look chagrin. He simply declared. 'That was a different situation entirely. Ours was written in the stars. So far the stars haven't said anything about our daughter.'

'Maybe they don't quite know what to make of her.' Sarah suggested. 'After all, she wasn't conceived in the underground so perhaps the rules are different.'

'Rules or no rules, I'm not going to betroth my daughter to every libertine that walks through our door, claiming to have a kingdom and a castle to put her in. _My _daughter,' he declared, walking over to the crib and touching the child's dark curls, 'will choose her own husband.'

'So much for tradition.' Sarah noted, joining him at the crib.

'There is no tradition for a Goblin Princess because there never has been one before.' He told her. 'Alanna will make her own traditions because she is the first.'

'But not the last.'

He glanced up at her, his eyes questioning. 'Sarah, are you…'

She smiled. 'Sometime in the autumn. So you'd better get busy writing that petition.'

He straightened up, taking her in his arms. 'I shall start on it immediately.'

Her arms slid around his neck, her fingers tangling in the pale hair that had finally grown back to its original length. 'I think it could wait for a little while longer, don't you?'

'Nothing is more important than protecting my daughters from adventurers and charlatans.'

'Nothing?' She asked, looking up at him with liquid green eyes.

'Well,' he said, his lips dropping to hers, 'perhaps one or two things.'

**THE END**


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